Mercy
by Hayha
Summary: Molly and Sean fanfic. It is both romantic and logical and within the context of Threshold tries to be scientifically correct. It also ties up many inconsistencies and loose ends. Please review it. I need feedback!
1. Chapter 1

"I've already got a hit," Ramsey said, scrambling down from his chair at the computer monitor and running to the labs outside. "I scored. I found one."

Lucas followed Ramsey as he shouted in each room. "I found one." Dr. Fenway took off his scrubs and left the latest autopsies.

Soon J.T. and Molly followed Arthur Ramsey's noise into the conference room.

"You're sure," J.T. asked even before he sat down.

Arthur nodded. "Absolutely positive. It's Mercy, Arizona. They can't hide the way they eat. I got the electronic data interchange information for every grocery and restaurant distributor in the country. I crosschecked the purchase data from the two local markets, four minimarts and all the restaurants. Sales of high protein foods quadrupled over this time last year. The gas stations are now buying protein powder by the carton. Even the sewing supply store is selling Tiger Milk protein bars."

"Couldn't the population have increased without us knowing it?"

Ramsey shook his head. "Sales in Mercy of other commodities that I could get data on have gone down. Gasoline for example."

"The way gas sales skyrocketed they're down all over."

"They're down more than the national average. It's like there's a population reduction, in line with our recorded percentages of people dying off from the alien infection. Electricity usage is also down by roughly the same amount. No, less people live in Mercy than last year and they're using eating almost five times as much protein."

J.T. nodded. "Definitely worth investigating. What kind of town is Mercy?"

Arthur brought up figures on the main screen. "It's the seat of Wolf County and the site of a state prison. The last official census gave the population as 8,000, not counting the prisoners."

"Eight thousand?"

Arthur nodded. "Eight thousand. There are large commercial ranches, farms and copper mines all around, also some small gold mines. It borders the Santa Maria Indian reservation, where the Apaches have a large casino. That's sovereign tribal land and we can't send in any sort of Federal agent without getting a lot of attention."

Sean looked at the team calmly. "I've been preparing for one like this. It's the same cover we used in Allenville."

Arthur looked at Molly. "Marriage?"

Molly nodded. "The happy couple. When two strangers in love come, people roll out the red carpet. Everyone likes to see love and joy."

Arthur smiled, jumping up like he was going to hump her leg. "Hey? Why can't you go with me? I'm the love god here."

Molly managed not to throw up.

"I can protect her better," Sean said calmly. "I've even worked it into the cover story, and this one goes back months." He pulled up a picture from the Washington Post dated back in January, four months earlier. It showed the DC Police department SWAT team sniper taking down the shooter in a bungled bank robbery. One face was clearly his. "Cops don't like their picture in the papers, so they were all too glad to see me pull some tricks to get mine in and one of theirs out. Sergeant Pat Brogan. Nine-year veteran of the Washington DC police. When we leave, the real Brogan takes his wife on a dream vacation to the jungles of Borneo, all expensed paid courtesy of Threshold."

"His wife?"

"Mary. An English and math teacher of troubled children at a fancy private school called the Searcher Academy." Sean pressed a button and brochure pictures from the Searcher Academy flashed on the screen. Molly was helping a charming child in a wheelchair with a reading book. "It's amazing what the right people can do with computer graphics programs these days. I've got half a dozen perfect pictures of her on the Searcher Academy brochures and web sites and more scattered in other places around the Internet. She's even got her face in last month's issue of the National Education Association's magazine."

"No children?"

"Married one year. No kids."

Arthur shook his head. "It's too perfect."

"After Allenville, I went searching for cover stories."

"Well it's your loss. You two will miss my big Superbowl party on Sunday. I'll have Guinness on tap. How about the rest of you?"

"How about you, Lucas?"

"Let me check with Rachel. Last year we went to her folks."

Fenway shook his head. "J.T. Someone has to monitor Arthur's binge drinking."

J.T. sipped slowly on his coffee. "I volunteer. Get some wings too." He turned to Sean. "I know someone needs to go in, but James Hogan knows you two. He may have distributed your pictures."

Molly shook her head. "Hogan knows our entire operation. Any experienced team member is equally at risk."

"If Hogan is there, I have the best chance of stopping him."

Arthur looked right into Cavennaugh's eyes. "Before you go trying to reason with them, remember one other little fact my data mining uncovered. According to FBI files, the town gun store bought over 2,000 semi-auto Romanian AK-47 clones, almost a hundred RPK sniper rifles and a couple of dozen .50 caliber long range sniper rifles. The Federal NCIC check system records almost 5,000 background checks from that shop in three months. It's all legal but that town is stocking for a war."


	2. Chapter 2

They were on Highway 40, in the middle of nowhere of West Texas. Wind blown dust that just didn't stop. They weren't even in a comfortable GSA issue car but in the Brogan's old Ford Taurus.

Molly unwrapped another protein bar, tossed it in a trash bag and wadded up the wrapper and tossed it back onto the pile in the back seat. "Next time, we're flying."

Sean unwrapped a beef summer sausage and took a bite out of it, then dumped it on the reject pile. "Our cover has to be perfect. We're a pair of refugees who have been 'improved.' Our car must have the mess that comes from two protein starved people making hard time on the road."

She pulled out a white binder with a ribbon on it. "I can't fault your attention to detail. This wedding album is incredible."

He nodded. "A woman could leave behind her home, her furniture, her clothes but not her wedding album."

"Yes." She was surprised a man like Sean could understand that. She kept staring at the album, completely enchanted. "It looks so real." Just the way she had always imagined her wedding would be. To see herself, standing with him, toasting with him, surrounded by people who looked like her family.

He smiled. "Only the best." Then he turned and caught himself. "For an operation like this. It has to be perfect."

Eventually he pulled into the Texas Sunrise motel and rented a room with one double bed from a bored looking East Indian woman behind the counter.

The room was small. Sean brought in their baggage. Molly was already on the bed, taking off her blouse and slacks. She was exhausted by the long road trip. Sixteen hours straight driving. She usually slept in the nude, but remembered to stop at the bra and panties. "It's going to be a tight squeeze."

Sean looked her up and down, admiring every inch. "I've bunked in a lot worse."

"Sorry. No hanky panky."

"I'll be good."

The bed was tight. He lay there on his side, worrying and wondering. She dozed off, snuggling next to him. She felt so wonderful, her chest softly pressed into his back. Her scent was marvelous, the smell of a woman that had for once not let civilization's chemicals destroy nature's perfume. As much as he wanted to, he didn't. He didn't want to let a moment of pleasure destroy a world of possibility.


	3. Chapter 3

They had dumped all their uneaten food in Texas. They drove across New Mexico and into Arizona hungry, taunted by the smell of the empty wrappers in the seat behind them. By the time they had driven passed the miles of ranch land, orchards and fields on the way to Mercy, they were ravenous. She pulled into a Circle K gas station and mini-mart directly off Route 85 by Mercy, Arizona. They had timed their last fill up so the car would be ravenous as well.

They stepped out of the car. It was cold. The sky was brilliant blue and snow was on the mountains around them. Sean began to pump gas as Molly went inside the store. She walked in and grabbed a carton of a dozen Optimum Nutrition Fudge Brownie protein meal bars off the shelf. She ripped it open and inhaled one of the bars. She was so hungry and she knew she had to make a show of how badly she wanted it. Then she began wolfing down a second as she took it to the register line. Everybody just calmly smiled and waved as they stood in line with her. The man ahead of her had a ten-pound jar of weight gain protein powder. She looked around and grabbed one.

The woman behind the counter was eating the biggest hamburger Molly had ever seen in her life. As she unwrapped her third protein bar and put the carton and the giant weight gain powder on the counter she looked at it adoringly and said "That is the most beautiful looking burger I have ever seen in my whole life."

"It's from Bandino's, right about half a mile up American Avenue over there, right up the hill on the right side. You can't miss it." She looked at her. "How long has it been since you had a real meat meal?"

"Just a triple whopper from a Burger King outside of Silver City."

"That's three hours from here. No wonder you're starving girl. Those protein bars make nice between meal snacks but you need more."

"I'm sorry. Did I say triple whopper? I meant a salad. Really I am not a big eater." She took a bite from the protein bar. "It's just my period."

A big, grey haired old man in overalls put his hand on her shoulder. "It's OK, lady. We all understand here."

Outside, she went up to Sean and kissed him, joyously showing him the protein powder and the protein bars.

Bandino's was right where the clerk said it would be. They walked on in, Molly still nibbling on a protein bar. The restaurant looked pleasant. There was a bar in the room in the back. On the wall was a picture of a comical Mexican bouncing a soccer ball off his stomach as he served beer and tacos. But tacos were no longer on the menu. Instead the favorite items were whole chicken leg quarters, roasts and the Bandino One Pound Burger.

An older Hispanic looking man came out of the back. "Hi. Welcome, welcome. How may I help you?"

Sean looked at the menu. "They say you've got a great hamburger."

"Oh sir, it is the very best. You must be new here to not know of my famous one pounder. All lean meat, broiled just the perfect amount so you can grow from every gram of protein."

He nodded. "Yeah. With extra pickles."

"You shall love it so much you will keep coming back for more. And for you, señorita?"

Molly smiled and nibbled the protein bar. "Something light. This is my fifth bar since hitting town."

"Oh I know just the thing. Our extra special side garden salad with my flame broiled Tex-Mex chicken. All tender breast meat. So good and so good for you."

She nodded. "That does sound good."

"And to drink? I shall make you fresh lemonade. Tart and sweet."

Sean nodded. "Fresh lemonade it is."

"I'll take an iced tea."

They sat down in a booth. Soon the waitress brought out their food and the Heinz 57 varieties catsup bottle. Sean looked at his burger. It looked perfectly normal except for its size. He bit in. It was good. Then he washed it down with the lemonade. That too was excellent. He poured catsup on the fries and tried them. Even they were good, hot and salty.

Molly's iced tea smelled fresh. They generously supplied her with lemon slices. She carefully at her tomatoes as she squeezed lemon slices into her tea and sugared it. The tomatoes had that dyed plastic appearance and complete lack of smell that commercially produced tomatoes had. The lettuce didn't have any teeth. She tried a bit. It was safe, with tasteless produce and delicious chicken.

They ate, taking breaks to kiss and feed each other from the generous basket of fries. If they weren't in a town full of aliens, it would be an enjoyable date.


	4. Chapter 4

Sean drove up the hill, further into the town, carefully waving a protein bar and managing to even eat some. Molly was surprised by how small that salad felt now. She found herself devouring another bar and tossing the wrapper in the back. "Let's do some shopping. I'm almost through with these bars."

"You're eating like an alien."

"Well, I palmed some. And you said we should have a perfect cover."

They stopped at the market. It now had a sign in the window saying "GNC LiveWell." Palettes of MuscleTech NitroTech Hardcore nutrition powder were prominently displayed by the registers. The woman in the check out line had a large side of some four footed animal by the register. Molly held Sean's hand. "Excuse me. Where are the protein bars?"

"Isle three A for the high protein and Isle 3B for the mass building bars. We're running a special this week on Chocolate Carmel Nut Crunch protein bars, only $29.95 for a twelve bar box"

Sean shook his head. "Honey, those are so expensive and you just inhaled a whole box. Let's get ten pounds of meat instead."

"But how do we cook it?"

"We'll get a dozen Summer Sausages, OK?"

A county sheriff walked inside and hollered "Anybody here own a Ford Taurus with DC plates?"

Sean turned. "What's the problem, officer?"

"It's OK, Mister. They're insured."

Sean put down the sausages and went outside. Molly followed right behind. The car was exactly as they left it. He looked back at the officer questioningly when the officer said "If you two will put your hands over your head and get down on the ground everything will be alright."

Sean looked around. The deputy didn't even have his gun out. Then he noticed the gun barrels poking out of windows around them. They were surrounded. He raised his hands and knelt down. "Get down, Mary. Do what he says."

"That's real smart. Now very slowly slip that gun in your shoulder holster out and put it on the ground. Don't make any sudden moves or she might get hurt in the crossfire."

"Officer Patrick Brogan. District of Columbia police. She is my wife. We haven't done anything."

"Packing when you don't have a concealed weapons permit that is valid in the state of Arizona is enough. Lady, your purse."

Molly slipped the bag off her shoulder. The officer flipped through the bag. Fortunately or unfortunately, she'd put the heavy gun in the glove compartment where it was closer to grab than the purse. She looked him and spoke with all the scorn her acting could deliver. "Nazis!"

"Quiet, Mary." Sean turned and looked the sheriff firmly in the eye. "President Bush signed the national right to carry law for off duty and retired law enforcement officers years ago. I have my badge and my police ID. Let me take them out."

The officer nodded. "Real slow." Sean carefully took it out with two fingers, opened it to the badge and handed it to him. The officer flipped through the wallet, surprised. "You're a sergeant on the SWAT team?"

Sean nodded. "And proud of it."

The officer looked around and shouted "All clear. Everyone stand down. All clear. Everyone stand down." He picked up the pistol and handed it to Sean. "Officer Jack Haldane. Wolf County Sheriffs. I'm real sorry but when someone from Washington is packing a gun we have to be careful."

Molly hugged Sean. "You mean you're not the Nazis?"

Haldane shook his head and handed Sean back the wallet. "Nazis? No, Ma'am. I'm sorry. It's protein shake break. Let me buy you each one. I'm real sorry to have to scare you."


	5. Chapter 5

Haldane clocked out and they walked to Cindy's Café across the street. "Good control of the situation," Sean said admiringly. "You got us out of the store and away from any potential hostages."

Jack smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Inside Cindy's Café, a waitress put a tray down at their table. Both Jack and Sean got the Whey Out There and Molly got the Chocolate, egg and soy Triple Indulgence. She sipped hers. It tasted so good she let herself drink. "I was so scared," she said. "I thought you were the Nazis and were going to take us away."

"Who do you mean, Nazis?"

Sean took a slug of his drink. "They called themselves Threshold."

Jack nodded. "Nazis. Good name. How did you learn of them?"

"Mary loves a fresh salad and there is this farmer's market not far from the precinct. I used to stop after shift and get tomatoes and other veggies there. Then it was like we had the flu or food poisoning one weekend and when we felt better we started eating and eating. I figured it was just recovering from the flu, but it didn't stop. But I felt great. They had a random PT test and I did better than anyone else in all categories, better than anything I could have dreamed of before. And I was better at the office. It was like I was thinking so much clearer."

Molly nodded. "I was going through economy size jars of Jiff peanut butter like gumdrops, but I wasn't gaining much weight and I was healthy." She smiled and played with Sean's hand. "And Pat sure was healthy. It was wonderful."

"Then there was a secret operation. That's where I heard of these Threshold goons. I was called as part of the SWAT team to cover them disappearing the tomato seller and all the customers in the farmer's market."

"Pat told me and I couldn't believe it. He didn't act scared but I knew he was."

"I started arranging to take a vacation. I told them it was our dream vacation to Borneo we were going to take while trying to have a baby. I had six weeks back leave. We packed up the car and drove off. I figured maybe we'd go to South America or Canada."

"Borneo?"

Sean took another slug. "I wanted a long head start on them."

"Why did you come here?"

"We ran low on gas and were hungry. Mary saw all the foods we have been craving in the Mini-mart and we wondered if there could be anyone like us here."

Jack nodded. "The whole town is improved. Except for a few who are so sick they were worried they couldn't make it. But they're all so ill they won't make it the six years anyway."

Molly took a long slurp, hitting the bottom of the tall glass. "Improved? Six years?"

"That's what we call it, improved. And anyone who isn't improved in five or six years will die."

"Why?"

"Do you know much about outer space?"

Molly nodded. "I had all the science courses to get my teaching credential."

"Eta Carinae is a star that's about 7,500 light years away. If you look at the astronomical references for it, you'll find that it's a hypergiant luminous blue variable double star. It's one of the biggest stars in the galaxy, and it has the highest luminosity of any known star. It's so luminous that the NASA scientists who studied it through the Hubble telescope will tell you it's exceeded the Eddington luminosity limit, which is the upper bounds where a star can remain stable. They'll also tell you that it is that Eta Carinae doubled it's brightness in 1998 and according to Dr. Immler of NASA the star is unstable and could explode within our lifetime."

Molly nodded, remembering when Captain Manning had said to have NASA check right ascension 10 hours and 45 minutes and a declination of –59 degrees and 41 minutes. "What has that got to do with getting improved?"

"What NASA doesn't know is that 7,500 years ago, Eta Carinae became a gamma ray and neutron radiation particle fountain that's pointed right at us. They can't tell because the radiation is traveling at the speed of light and the light from that star that's reaching Earth now is from six years before the star exploded. But when it hits us all the people and animals and plants that aren't improved will die."

"How do you know?"

"I guess they told the leaders. We've all been warned."

"They? The black bugs in the glass forest?"

Jack nodded, finishing his drink. "They're a very advanced alien race. They can't land here because they are silicone based and their bodies use ammonia and fluorine for their metabolism. To them, water is an acid and oxygen is a poison gas. But they know intelligence like ours is so rare they want to help."

Molly carefully sucked up every bit at the bottom of her glass. "We kept seeing that sea in our dreams and I wondered if it was from the Book of Revelations, the end of days. This is all so awful it's like the end of time."

Haldane nodded. "Many have wondered if this is what St. John saw. Are we the Saints in the last days fighting the army of the devil? Are we the saviors on Mount Zion? Is our own government the devil's great and abominable church? We have to fight our own ignorant government to have a chance at preventing the extinction of our species. We know there will be massive ecological devastation because of all the species we don't get improved. It's a race against time to save as much as possible. But at least you get to join being part of the solution rather than the problem."

After Sean finished his, Jack put the tray with their three glasses up on the counter and nodded and smiled to Cindy behind the register. "We closed the motel to discourage outside visitors, but we've got a network of people who run informal bed and breakfasts. Let me get you with one of those."

_Eta Carinae is a real star. Everything described about NASA's observations is true. Even Dr. Immler is real. Just look it up on Wikipedia. The coordinates are somewhat off of what Captain Manning said but it's so good a match I thought I'd use it._

_I would really appreciate reviews. I've received almost no feedback._


	6. Chapter 6

As Sean drove, Molly keyed in a quick coded report from her Blackberry and sent it. Halverson escorted them to a modest two-story house on a large, fenced lot with goats running free. Outside, a burly man with a long white beard was chopping wood. He stopped chopping and waved, then opened a gate. Halverson took off.

When they pulled their car up, the man extended his big paw. "Jake Teller."

Sean put out his hand. "Pat Brogan. This is Mary."

Molly smiled and waved. "Hi."

"You best get what you care about out of the car. Some Mexican boys here been hopping the fences and doing car break-ins."

"You don't have security?"

Jake nodded, pointing to two large German Shepherds carefully watching them from behind a parked truck, eyes riveted to every move. "Best not to leave temptation. They're just hungry boys improving but they can do it honest."

Sean nodded and unlocked the trunk, taking a rifle case, groceries and two large bags. Molly took two smaller packs and grabbed her wedding album and the glove compartment gun and locked up.

Inside it was a magazine picture of the happy American home. A roaring fire was going in the fireplace. A model white haired grandmother was in the kitchen. She smiled. "Welcome, welcome. I am Ruth. Welcome to our home."

Molly smiled. "I'm Mary. Would you like any help in the kitchen?"

"Oh you just get yourselves settled in and freshened up. Through the hall, second room on the right. I have a couple of roasts on."

As Molly took the luggage to their room, Sean put the grocery bag down on the counter. "I'm Pat. I bring offerings." He took out two dozen eggs and ten-pound slab of cow.

"Oh that's so lovely. Thank you."

Jake smiled. "Thank you. It's so hard to improve on Social Security and a miner's pension."

Sean nodded. "I'm sure. Sheriff Halverson said $40 for the night?"

Ruth smiled. "By the night. But if you two want to stay longer we would love to give you a real good rate. Four hundred a month. Cheaper than an apartment and it's a nice home atmosphere."

Molly returned, matching Ruth's smile. "That would be wonderful. What do you think, Honey?"

Sean shrugged. "We'll have to find work, but yeah it beats running from the Nazis."

She kissed Sean, long and hard. It was easy to play the part because the feelings were so close to true. "Thank you. I've never felt more at home any place. This is where I want to have our baby."

"Oh Goodie," Ruth said, clapping. "How far along are you?"

Sean squeezed her hand. "We're not yet. But …"

Molly remembered what Libby Drennen said and let it come out naturally. "We didn't want children of our own before. But ever since we improved, I have just wanted to have Pat's baby more than anything. It's like a hunger, I feel myself holding our child and giving it life from my breasts."

"Oh, that's so sweet. This is a good town. Pat, we were told you were a policeman. What do you do, Mary?"

"I was a schoolteacher."

"Oh they're always looking for good teachers."

Jake looked Sean firmly in the eye. "County Sheriffs can use you. And there's security at the casino or prison guard until get on there."


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner consisted of a pile of rare roast that Ruth had sliced and broiled like steaks. Sean and Molly both managed to clean their plates so they wouldn't be suspicious. Molly even managed to down the "good luck family treat," the cup of blood from the broiling pan. It wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it would be. After dinner, she helped Ruth with the dishes while Sean and Jake stayed in the living room.

Sean was fascinated with the collection of World War II photographs on the wall. One somewhat familiar looking face was in many of them. "Who are these of, your father?"

Jake shook his head. "Me. North Africa, Italy, France and Germany, 1942 to 1945."

"You must be..."

"Eighty five."

"You must have some healthy genes."

"I was near dead before Ruth got me improved. Now I have my strength. My bones don't break. My hands don't shake. My back and knees don't hurt. Even my face looks younger. God has blessed me with a second life."

Sean thought for a moment. The muscle growth hormone levels skyrocketed on the aliens. The repair facilities and bone calcium density had climbed. It would not be unreasonable if the old people who became aliens and didn't die right off would feel and act much younger.

Jake pointed to a framed Luger with an SS armband. The finish on half the gun was almost gone. "I got that at a Nazi concentration camp. The head of the camp blew his brains out as we liberated the camp. I took it and his armband. By the time I took it out of my pack the finish on that side was all eaten up from that bastard's blood. We knew what to do with Nazis then. We killed them until they surrendered. You called them Washington Thresholders Nazis. They're worse because they're ones of us."


	8. Chapter 8

The bathroom and the sewing room were between them and the Teller's room. It was almost private. By the time bedtime came around, Sean was truly tired and felt more than a little ill. But he wasn't really surprised with all he had forced himself to eat.

The bed was nice, a firm and pleasant queen sized bed with a brass headboard. They crawled into bed. They had been kissing so much that whole day that Sean had to restrain himself from kissing her goodnight.

After the house was dark and Sean was asleep, Molly sat up in bed, struggling to absorb the day. She saw a little girl there, perhaps four years old. She was adorable. "How did you get in here," Molly asked?

"You will make me. I am to be your daughter."

Molly stared at her. "My daughter?"

The girl nodded. "Yours and Sean's. You must make me, tonight."

"Why tonight?"

"If you do, you two will save the world. If you do not, you will die."

"Die?"

"Both of you. Real soon. Tonight is your only chance to save yourselves and to save the world."

"How does getting pregnant with you save Sean and me?"

"You will know, but you must start me now. Otherwise it will be too late." The girl pointed to Molly and Sean on the floor. Molly was lying face down, wearing her blue dress, her back riddled with gunshot wounds. Sean was in a white shirt and an old, narrow and hideously ugly grey paisley tie. He was flopped over her with one bullet shot through his head. "You can't lie to yourself. Inside, you know what you must do."

Then she was suddenly lying in bed, her eyes looking at the ceiling. Sean was gently snoring. They were alone in the room.

The dreams never lied, she thought. She turned on the night light and enjoyed the sight of his muscled and scarred chest. She took her bra off. She didn't understand the dreams, but they always told her what to do. She slid her panties down and kicked them away and climbed back in bed and began idly stroking those very sexy scars. He stirred, a little groggy and confused.

She put his powerful hands to her bosoms and squeezed. His hands found the nipples and began to circle them gently. She raced with pleasure inside. She kicked the covers away and straddled him, tugging his boxers down. Then she took his firm manhood in her hand as she stroked herself until the dews ran. Once they were both ready, she guided him to target and rode him, panting and loving every moment. Her mind raced. Missionary position with her pelvis elevated was supposed to have the highest chance of achieving pregnancy. She rolled over and put her pillow under her hips, guiding him on top, and then curling her legs around him to drive him in. "More, harder, more, more, oh yes, yes, yes."

Finally his seed flowed into her garden. She held him close, kissing him. Then she happily dozed off.

When she woke in the morning, he was looking out the window at the goats and the horses. It was a frosty morning. Jake and Ruth were out milking and tending the goats, their breath fogging. She wrapped his shirt around herself and stood by him. Without looking at her, he said, "You wouldn't believe the dream I had last night."

She smiled at him. "Want to dream some more?"

"It all happened?"

She nodded, tugging him back to bed.

After, he looked at her. "Why now?"

She whispered, "We have to have a baby or the Aliens will kill us."

"What?"

"I had a dream. She was very clear. If you don't make me pregnant right now, we both die and they take over."

"She?"

"Our daughter."

"How do they kill us?"

"I saw us shot to death."

"It was a dream." He shrugged. "I'm not complaining. That wedding album. It is how I want things to be, my dream. Since Allenville, I have really just wanted to be with you and to have a family with you. But it was a dream."

"All of my dreams have come true. You know that."

There was a knock at the door. It was Ruth. "If you two lovebirds are through with your morning festivities, I made up those eggs for breakfast. Come and get it."

Molly smiled. "Just let us toss something on."


	9. Chapter 9

Ruth piled eggs on Molly's plate. "Not that we're forcing you to ours, but when you're thinking of starting a family you really should consider your faith community."

Molly blushed and dove into her eggs. "I think we started our family last night."

"Oh I am so glad."

Jake nodded, holding his coffee cup as to making a toast. "Here's to many good, strong sons."

"It's a girl. I can feel it. It's like I saw her face. She's beautiful. And I wanted to start her here. It was like everything was right, right now."

Ruth smiled. "That's the way it should be." She looked at Sean's plate. "You're hardly eating."

"My stomach feels kind of sick. I'm not real hungry."

"You need something to improve on or you'll feel worse."

"I'll get down some protein bars."

"Try some of the goat cheese. It's wonderful on toast."

Jake nodded. "Since you are in the family way you should start thinking where you are with the Lord."

Sean tried the cheese. It didn't go down any better. "We went together to a Methodist Church a few times but the pastor was kind of …"

"Dreamy?" Molly started eating the eggs off Sean's plate.

"Yeah, dreamy. Then the mess all hit."

"Ours is a Faith Evangelical Lutheran Church. But we have about every church here in Mercy. Methodists, Catholics, Baptists, Grace, Seventh Day Adventist, Christian Scientist, Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses."

"We even got a bunch of Towel Heads that moved into big houses."

Sean raised an eyebrow as he pushed his now mostly empty plate to Molly. "Towel Heads?"

Ruth jokingly swatted at Jake. "Muslims. About a dozen Arab professors from the University and their families. I talk to their wives at the market and when I do cheese and milk deliveries."

"Not terrorists?"

Jake shook his head. "We might not like everything but we know Threshold is the terrorist. All improved are brothers. We must work in peace together or we'll all die."

"They're very important people. They're agricultural experts who are helping us with improving crops and farm animals. They're different but they're trying to be part of the community. They bought the old motel and are making it into a mosque and a school for their children. They want smart teachers. You should apply."

"My degree is in special education of mentally handicapped children."

"Improvement has done miracles with the retarded children in town. I think you're going to be out of business in a few years."

"That would be wonderful."

Ruth looked up at the clock. "Oh how the time has flown. You two should get dressed."

Molly looked at Sean. "We'll take a quick shower."

Jake nodded. "You and I look about the same size. I took out an extra church shirt and tie in case you need it." He reached around and gave it to Sean on a hanger. It was a white shirt and the same ugly, old paisley tie."

In the shower together. Naked and not thinking of sex. It felt to Sean like they were married. Her bras were padded. She was a size smaller, but her breasts were so firm and perfect. Her skin was like velvet, soft with the finest blonde down. He didn't think she even shaved.

Maybe he was thinking of sex, just a little. But it still felt like they were married. He was happy, something he hadn't felt in many years. He put his hand on her stomach. "Mine."

She flushed the toilet and turned on his electric shaver. Then she climbed back in and cranked back up the shower water. "The tie Jake loaned you. It's the one I saw you dead in."

"You're sure."

She nodded. "There isn't another tie that hideous on Earth."


	10. Chapter 10

They drove up to the white plastered church. The little parking lot was already full. They were late. They took a pew together with the Tellers in the back. Except for Sean's jacket with the holster underneath, they were both dressed exactly as she had seen their bullet riddled bodies.

After a hymn and the Lord's Prayer, the minister got up. "As I have talked about many times, every other Wednesday the clergy of Mercy try to get together for a meeting. This last time we included Professor Rashid from the Mercy Mosque, who is their acting Imam. All the clergy members have had similar questions, and as it's the beginning of Operation Flood we wrote this sermon together. It's been delivered or will be delivered in every house of prayer in town.

"The subject is the morality of improvement. We live in fear of our own government during these days of trial. People have died being improved. There are recorded cases of improved people killing each other to further the cause. We know of the probability of a horrid death for those who do not improve. In these confusing times, what is the moral thing to do?

"We tried to find an equivalent in the scriptures, but then that led … nowhere. But we realized there is an equivalent in common law, immunization. Parents will take their child to the doctor to give them a mild case of a dreaded disease, knowing there is a chance that they will get very sick and possibly even die. Doctors who are sworn to first do no harm will administer immunizations knowing that they can do terrible harm. The children scream that they don't want the shot, yet the doctors and the parents insist, and now even the State insists on many immunizations. The difference is we know anyone who does not receive the immunization will be dead within five years. So we do have the moral precedent, even though there is a risk.

"The scriptures and the law both recognize the right of self defense. In the State of Arizona, you can legally use deadly force when someone forcibly invades your home or vehicle to prevent an imminent threat of death or other serious crimes such as rape, sexual assault on a minor or kidnapping. You may also use deadly force to protect someone else from such threats, even outside the home. If you are driving home and see someone about to rape a woman, you may use force and if needed even deadly force to defend her. The one person the law doesn't allow you to defend against is an illegal law enforcement officer. But is this Threshold terrorist cell even law enforcement? They don't fall under any official government department. We know the same cell members have claimed to be in many legitimate agencies, but that means they aren't legally in any of them. No, self defense is self defense. If they invade our homes and our communities, we must stand ready to defend one another and if they try to use force on us the Lord will understand if we defend ourselves with appropriate force.

"The next question was whether or not we are living God's law by opposing our government's law. Then we realized is that we are not opposing any laws or statutes by improving. The government has not debated, signed and put onto the published books a law against us. Instead they illegally move in secret, holding the residents of an entire town in secret detention when their only crime is eating more than the national average. American citizens, residents of this country, men, women and children, all spirited off to a secret underground prison. They were not even charged with a crime. This is against the most solemn code of laws in this land, the constitution of the United States.

"No, being improved does not make you a criminal. Nor does it make you a patriot. We still must remain individually morally accountable for our actions. The most disturbing thing we learned of is how the first magic tomatoes were made. Improved people improved others for the sole purpose of draining their blood and using it to make the necessary enzymes. This must not be, for to improve means to not only improve in body but in spirit. We must leave behind the old man and remember above all that in the increasingly difficult days ahead we have to be one people. We may not agree with each other in all things, but what family does? We communicate, we meet, we talk, we calmly decide or agree to disagree and we act according to the moral laws in the scriptures.

"The last question was asked disturbingly often, including by some in this congregation. What do we do about the criminals in our government? They pointed to war crimes trials. We pointed to the scriptures. Saul persecuted Jews who had been improved by the Gospel. Yet after he was improved by the Lord on the road to Damascus he became Saint Paul and was the Lord's greatest worker in improving the Gentiles. Professor Rashid sang a verse from the Koran. He said that it meant that it would be far better to die than to take the life of one who was a true believer for the murderer will be in Hell forever. Remember that as the world is improved many of those who formerly kicked against the pricks will be truly converted. We must accept them as one born again of the spirit.

"Let me add something to the points we wrote out Wednesday night. I do not know everything that is happening. I don't know what Operation Flood is. I too have lost from improvement. You all know my own beloved Cindy rejected and died, right before my eyes. I have sacrificed just as you have. I gave my savings as so many of you did. Why? I had faith. Faith that what our leaders have told us is true. Faith that what we do right now is important and will help save the world. Faith to keep on doing what is right in the difficult and dark days ahead. Saint Paul wrote in the first epistle to the Corinthians 'But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.' The name of this town is Mercy. It was founded on the principle that we should have mercy unto each other. I implore you all now to have faith in the words of our leaders and mercy to all who have been improved in God's eternal plan. In the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Amen."

Molly felt guilty. She almost stood up and announced that she was the one who had sent those people from Allenville to their unknown fate. She looked at Sean. His eyes stared hard back at her and held her hand down, as if he knew what she was thinking and wouldn't let her do it.


	11. Chapter 11

After the services, Sean and Molly strolled outside and looked at the mountains on the clear Sunday morning. Suddenly Molly felt something hard jammed into her back. A voice came from behind. It was Officer Haldane's. "Dr. Caffrey, drop your purse and put your hands up. Mr. Cavennaugh, very slowly take your gun out and drop it to the ground."

Molly complied. So did Sean.

"Now take off the jacket and slip off the shoulder holster. Very slowly or Dr. Caffrey goes down. A dozen snipers have you two in their crosshairs."

The Reverend came up. "What is going on?"

"These are the two who got everyone in Allenville imprisoned. They are the ones who set back Operation Flood two months. She's Dr. Molly Caffrey, the leader of Threshold."

The Reverend looked at Molly with horror and disbelief. Molly shrank under the fury. After all the misery, all the stress and all the fear she cried uncontrollably. It wasn't just acting to try to save her life. "I'm sorry. I was so wrong. I almost stood up in church and confessed my sins. I was so wrong. Please forgive me, Father. I didn't know what I was doing. Just don't let them hurt my baby."

Ruth walked up. "She's pregnant. If you shoot her, you kill her baby. You will murder an innocent life that could improve."

"Please, I'll do anything you want. Just don't hurt my little girl."

"Down on the ground, both of you."

Once they were down and spread-eagled, Sean asked, "How did you find us?"

Haldane cuffed both of them. "The glasses in Cindy's Café. The fingerprints matched the ones on the root beer glasses you left in Allenville. Only this time we got word back in time." He stood and keyed his radio. "We have taken them into custody."

The radio crackled "Are they both alive?

"They surrendered without resisting. I have them cuffed and on the ground."

"You know the orders."

Haldane pointed his gun at Molly but the Reverend lay on the ground shielding her. "She's pregnant. You'll have to shoot her through me. Same thing for him."

Sean turned his head. "I'm the one you want. Allenville was my responsibility. I held her down in church to prevent her from getting up and confessing. Kill me."

The radio crackled "You know the orders."

Haldane didn't move. He just stared, his lips trembling. Finally he keyed his mike. "Fuck you. If you want to murder in cold blood a crying pregnant woman who says she'll do anything to save her baby, you come and do it yourself."


	12. Chapter 12

She was stripped and then tossed an ill fitting set of prison clothes and slippers. They were thrown in two separate jail cells. The walls were two foot thick reinforced concrete. The door was inches thick alloy steel. There was no window or ventilation, just a bare bulb, a toilet, a sink, a bunk and a door with huge bars in both directions. Two men in civilian clothes sat outside with shotguns pointed right at her.

Molly sat for what seemed like days, rocking back and forth to calm herself. She could hear Sean moaning in the other cell but he barely answered her. Were they torturing him? She couldn't hear anybody interrogating him but it sounded like people were going in and out of his cell.

Finally a different face appeared at the door. He looked to be about her age or not much older but his hair was grey. He wore a good blue suit, a good shirt and a quality silk tie. "Dr. Caffrey, we got some questions for you."

"Anything. Stop torturing Sean and I'll tell you anything."

"We're not torturing him. He's sick. We know the cure, but he is in danger. The faster you answer our questions, the faster he gets the medical care he needs."

"Anything. Do you have anything to eat? Nobody has fed me once. I'm starving."

He tossed in a sausage. It bounced and rolled on the dirty floor. She dove on it, chased the roaches away and began devouring it.

"Now, what do you know of Operation Flood."

"Just what the minister said in church."

Sean moaned again and made a strange sound, not coughing and not laughing, almost choking.

The man outside shook his head "You're lying, and he's dying."

"Please. It's the truth. I don't know. We never heard of it." She finished the sausage.

"Why did you come here?"

"Arthur Ramsey is running data mining on computer records of food purchases. Your town was a huge hit. So we came to investigate. Could I have another sausage?"

He rolled another along the floor. She swept off the cockroaches and began eating it.

"This is good. Thanks. Now please help Sean. I'm trying to help."

"We intercepted a message. Decrypt it."

Her mouth full of sausage, she shook her head. "I can't."

"Then he dies."

"It's a one way cipher. I can tell you what the message was and encrypt to the code. The two encrypted messages will match. But I can't decrypt it."

"What was the message?"

She thought. "Town alien. In OK. Hold. Rep 24."

Sean coughed and gasped again. It sounded like he was dying.

"Hold? Rep 24?"

"Hold sending in anyone else. We will report in 24 hours." She took another bite of the sausage. "I'm telling the truth. I can show you the function on my blackberry. Just help Sean."

"How do we get the Allenville prisoners out?"

"They're in the inner facility in Guantanamo Bay. I can give you the exact location but … " she shook her head, finishing the sausage. "I don't know. If I tried to get to them they'd think you've made me an alien." Her stomach was no longer paining but the horror of listening to Sean's moans and gasps were terrible. "Please give him the medicine."

"How do we keep Threshold away?"

"They'll come, but you can probably keep them away for a week if you just send them false reports. They know about your stockpiling arms. When they come they'll come for a battle. Give Sean the medicine. The Blackberry was in my purse. I'll show you how."

"Don't you feel guilty for sending hundreds of innocent Americans to Guantanamo?"

Her head trembled. She began sobbing again. "I don't know what I feel any more. I just want to save Sean and my baby. Give him the medicine."

"We already did." It was a familiar voice, off to the side, one she had not heard in a long time. She went to the bars. It was James Hogan. "The sickness is called underimprovement. The body isn't used to receiving enough of the right nutrients to improve on and starves violently. Sometimes it turns cannibalistic on itself and very weird things happen. We are having to force feed him."

"We're aliens now?"

"Either that or they are. It depends on your perspective."

"How? When?"

The Mexican cook from Bandino's stepped over, toting an AK-47 and smiling. "The lunch you enjoyed so much. My homemade catsup has an added ingredient. So do the lemons from my tree and his extra pickles and the marinade I used for your chicken. You see! It really was so good and so good for you. Now you are both improving."

Hogan stepped back. "Do you know how close you came to dying? There are standing shoot to kill orders for you."

"You would be killing your niece. And your brother. He would have jumped when I was shot. A sniper would have hit him in the head."

"How do you know?"

"I saw us dead, today."

"You really are pregnant? It's his?"

She nodded.

He shook his head. "Saved by a sob story. I guess welcome to the family."

"Thanks. What is going to happen to us?"

"If all goes according to plan, you two will get to live your lives." He walked away.


	13. Chapter 13

She sat, rocking. She found herself talking to her stomach. She called it Noreen. She rubbed it, telling it that they would be OK. She wasn't in the blue dress any more. It wasn't the same. Was this what the dream meant? She ate from a quart plastic container with chili in it. They didn't even give her a spoon but made her use a loaf of rye bread as a sop. It was cold and nasty but it filled her.

She remembered that Francis Gary Powers has been told by the Russians when his U2 had been shot down. You must either tell everything or tell nothing. Lying or holding back some was useless. You'd trip yourself up. She knew she should be brave and loyal but right now she felt like a frightened little girl in a deep, dark jail cell. She felt more frightened than when she was captured in New Harmony, Indiana. Maybe all the mother hormones were hitting her. Maybe it was being scared for the baby. Maybe it was Sean being captured. Maybe it was the hope that if she answered their questions they would keep them alive.

She showed them the encoding programs on her Blackberry and gave them the encryption keys. She even gave several plausible messages. Of course J.T. would know what was going on. He knew everything.

Sean was still groaning in the next cell. Or was he? She didn't even know if he was there. It could all be a recording or some sort of trick.

She finished the chili, drinking down the last of it and wiping her face off with the bread.

She rocked, and waited.

The two guys with shotguns left. Two more took their place.

Hogan came by. "How's the chili?"

"It was lousy. Got any more?"

"Besides data mining, how was Threshold trying to find us?"

She stood. "I'll answer any question, but you're going to let me see Sean first."

He nodded. "Alright."

They tossed in a set of incredibly heavy shackles. Feet, neck and wrists. She put it on. "Threshold should order from this company, this is huge."

Haldane opened the cell door. "Chrome Vanadium steel. Home made. We had a couple of Meth heads improve and break themselves out by breaking down the old jail."

She managed to shuffle out. The door to the next cell was open. She tried to go inside but Haldane grabbed her. Sean was held down to the bed frame by a set of shackles like hers as well as a set of hand cuffs. He looked awful. The grey haired man in the suit was in there. He'd taken off the jacket and tie and was sitting in a chair by him reading a Book of Mormon and eating a protein bar. There was a monitor on Sean measuring his pulse, respiration and temperature. Haldane nodded to him. "That's Dr. Bruce Corey."

Corey looked up. "He'll be alright. We caught it in time. I don't think there will be any long term damage."

"How long?"

"He's young. If he cooperates, maybe three days. You can help. He seems to be in shock, denying the improvement. You need to get him to want to be here for you and the baby."

Hogan tugged on her. "In a few minutes, Doctor." He led her down to the booking area. A football game was on. A teen aged boy was slouching, straddled over two chairs. Hogan thrust her down in a chair "Dr. Caffrey, you are about to watch a television first."

"I don't understand."

He turned to Haldane and the two shotgun toting civilians. "Foot cuff her to the chair. Release her hands and get her something to eat." In a few moments she was restrained and had a big burrito in her hands. "Now, do you know what game that is?"

She shrugged. "The Superbowl?"

"Yup. The Redskins vs. the Dolphins at the Rose Bowl."

The boy eyed Molly carefully, seeing her clanking chains. "What's she in for?"

"Kidnapping and mass murder. Be nice to her."

"I didn't do anything."

"You were going almost thirty miles above the speed limit. That's reckless driving. Just sit there quietly and watch the game. We'll call your parents in a few minutes. They can drive out from Phoenix and get you." He turned up the volume.

She always hated sports, especially football. It was just bulls with too much testosterone locking horns. She was a lot more interested in her burrito until the audio in the game went nastily bad, like a shriek from bad feedback. She took another bite, wondering what they were going to make her watch next. Then she looked besides her. The kid had doubled over, hands over his ears, writhing on the police station floor. But instead of helping the boy the whole police station started cheering and clapping. Molly just stared at the boy. "What is it with you? I think he's had a seizure. Get the doctor."

"You don't get it." Hogan muted the set. "Look at the field. Look carefully at the players."

It was a wide shot but she could see that both teams were lying on the ground clutching their helmets. She looked in horror, her mind refusing to take in what she had just seen. "You couldn't have?"

Hogan laughed. "Ninety million people are watching the game and improving at home right now." He changed the channel. It too had the same shriek. "That was a Tom Hanks love movie, until we took over the satellite. We took all the networks at once. Half the people in the country are improving now."

She took another bite. A bit too spicy and it needed more cheese. "You have to be wrong. I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel anything."

"You're improved." He nodded to Haldane. "Check our guinea pigs."

Haldane went to the radio. "Mercy State Prison this is Mercy Sheriff's office, what is your status?"

"As predicted. They're all rolling by now. A few are back up. We're getting them in their cells and running the blood work now."

"Copy. Mercy Sheriff's out." Haldane put the mike up and turned to Molly. "So, how many Threshold agents were watching the game?"

She silently thought. Arthur and J.T for sure. Probably Lucas. Probably not Dr. Fenway though. "Most."

"We improved well over a hundred million Americans today. We probably got eighty million voters. That's the majority of the voting population. How many senators and congressmen were improved? Was President Bush?"

She knew what a football fanatic Bush and Cheney were. They were no doubt at Bush's ranch in Texas watching the game, probably with a number of leading Republican senators. Even if there was a leadership core in the government that hadn't been infected, what could they do? Call the police? Mobilize the army and the National Guard? No, the demographics for Superbowl football fans and the military were almost a complete overlap. Most of the armed forces and reserves in the USA were becoming aliens right now. Her mind couldn't comprehend it. Compulsively, she finished the burrito.

"Operation Flood isn't over. This is just the first assault. And we aren't limiting the push to just the USA's borders. We're going across the globe today."

"How?"

Hogan smiled faintly. "The obvious is to do the same thing to the international television satellites as we did to the ones for the networks here in the States. Would you like to guess how many people we estimate are now improving around the world?"

Now would be prime time in Europe, the Mideast and Africa, Molly realized. Canada, Central and South America were on the same time zone as they were and used the same broadcast satellites. If they used the same techniques they could have infected hundreds of millions of more people. Australia, New Zealand, India, China and Pakistan would be the next logical targets. Even now they could catch morning viewers. And with the proliferation of satellite dishes throughout the world there was no way to stop the infection short of taking down their electric grid and searching for television sets house to house. And it was clear from the way he said it that Hogan had something else in mind as well.

They would have a staggering amount of money available. What would she do with that kind of numbers? Food imports. So much food is imported. Every tomato from Mexico, every can of Chinese apple juice could contain it. Tattoo parlors. People always bleed when receiving a tattoo. It's the perfect time to transmit the infection. Doctor's offices. Every medical procedure, every exam, every injection could now infect. Needle exchange programs for drug addicts. So many drug addicts were also prostitutes. They would be perfect for sexually transmitting the infection. They would muscle up and look healthier than the uninfected.

It didn't have to be a mass attack. It could be millions of little attacks. If every infected adult in two weeks infected one adult without being caught, aliens would be a strong majority. The blood bank worker letting an infected sample through. The restaurant worker slipping in some secret sauce. The Superbowl Sunday husband sleeping tonight with his unsuspecting wife. A little needle jab given to someone in a crowded Metro station.

Her mind raced. Her contingency plans had always assumed that the aliens were a tiny minority. She now saw that very soon they would be a majority. They? What they? She was now an alien too. So was Sean. So would be their baby. She shook her head uncontrollably. It was over. The infection had gone beyond the critical mass. The whole world would go alien. This was going to be a bigger disaster than her plan for what to do if the volcano that forms Yellowstone Park erupts. "Your biggest problem is going to be food. Suddenly the protein needs of the Earth's population will go up four or five times. What is your contingency plan for that? Food production will drop further when the neutron radiation does reach Earth. How do you plan to handle that?"


	14. Chapter 14

A million computer geeks were all sure they had the same original idea. Instinct told them how they had been changed. It was that sound. They took their TIVO of the game and mixed the sound into a music file and named it after some hit song. Then they uploaded it using Usenet or Bit Torrent or Emule or some other network and waited for unsuspecting geeks and teen-age music bootlegger to snag it.

The millions of geeks who were converted by the music files they downloaded instinctually knew the recording had changed them. They knew what they had to do. They passed the sound on. The computer literate came up with new songs and videos to hide the space sound in. Unwittingly, the aliens had done more than the Recording Industry Association of America ever could have hoped to do to suppress music piracy.

The computer illiterate who had a recording of the game used a different method. They phoned. First they would phone their family. Then they would phone their friends. Then many simply began calling, sometimes even calling random numbers of strangers. The lazy just turned up their car stereos and boom boxes and went stalking the unsuspecting. Eventually they all gave up when they couldn't find anybody who wasn't already improved.

**- - - **

They kept Molly's feet shackled and had two guards with shotguns behind her but they let her go freely between her cell and Sean's. Dr. Corey had left the night before. He popped in and out a couple of times and a nurse was there once every two or three hours throughout the night and day but most of Sean's care was now up to her.

Fortunately Sean was improving. He no longer required the feeding tube. He could sip a straw full of vitamin and mineral enriched cow blood from a plastic bag. She tried some to encourage him. She actually found it quite good, and wanted to drink the bag. Instead she had to settle for a Bandino Burger.

He was getting soiled. They cut his clothes off. She sponge bathed him. She looked at his genitals as she cleaned them. Well matched, even, symmetrical, nicely sized. He was a good specimen of a human male. Yet there was no romance in scrubbing him like this. It was strictly caring for a patient, even if he was the father of her child, no more romantic than cleaning the bodily waste out of his backside.

After she cleaned him, she put blankets on him and gave him another suck of blood. He turned his head and clenched his teeth.

"Sean, you need to eat."

"They're vampires. We're vampires."

"I'm eating a hamburger. You're sick. This is doctor prescribed medicine."

"You're an alien."

"And so are you. So are most of the people in the country right now. We lost the war. Now all I am thinking about is you. Our daughter is going to want her father. I know what it is to grow up without one, and I don't want ours to do that. Now drink, or I'll call Dr. Corey back and have him shove that tube back down your throat."

"You wouldn't."

She looked at him with a sideways glance. Of course she would.

He took a halfhearted suck.

"More. Finish it down. All of it."

"You're going to be a very stern mother."

She shoved the straw back in his face.

Hogan came to the cell door. "There's a phone call on your Blackberry for Dr. Caffrey."

"Feed your brother. Make sure he finished the whole thing in the next ten minutes or get Dr. Corey over here to force it down."

"Yes, Molly."

She handed him the bag and took the Blackberry. "Hello. Dr. Caffrey here."

It was a softly Southern accented voice she knew well. "This is Harvey Johnson, head of FEMA."

"Head of FEMA? What about David Paulison?"

"Dead. He was watching the game."

"And you …"

"Right next to him on our couch. Where are you?"

"Mercy, Arizona. Checking out a possible outbreak of aliens."

Johnson laughed. "Well there isn't much point in that right now. How soon can you be back in Washington?"

"I don't know. I'm in jail."

"In jail?"

"Our cover got blown Sunday morning and they put us in jail."

"The President wants you here, immediately."

She thought for a moment. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do. The President was ordering her to return. But she didn't want to. She wanted to stay with Sean. She wanted to quit. That job teaching in the mosque school was looking very appealing right now. She held the phone silently. Johnson must have felt her hesitation. "Dr. Caffrey, your country needs you. This is a crisis beyond anything in any of your scenarios. Ten million people died yesterday. There has been mass panic. We had panic rioting in Los Angeles and Newark. We have had looting for food in dozens of cities. The President called out the Reserve and the National Guard, but there aren't enough troops to go around and we've had some of the Guard troops go looting for food. And that's just the United States."

She knew what she had to do. She looked into the cell. "Hogan, I am being called back to Washington. You need to take care of Sean."

"A chopper will be there inside of half an hour."

She turned her attention back to Washington and her country. "You'll need to get my clothes. I'm in a prisoner's uniform."

* * *

_It would be very much appreciated if I could get some reviews. I know people are reading this but nobody is commenting. I'm particularly concerned about the last 1/3 of the story. Any feedback would be very much appreciated._


	15. Chapter 15

She was more concerned with getting a couple of Bandino burgers for the flight than getting Mary Brogan's clothes from the Teller's. Besides, the genuine "Mercy Jail" sweats weren't uncomfortable, she thought as she got into the helicopter that landed behind the police station.

Normally chopper flights didn't bother her. She'd been on enough. The nightmare of Threshold had begun with a chopper flight to the M.S.C. Bighorn. But the vibration and rocking bothered her this time. Morning sickness? Not so soon. It had to all be in her head.

Thankfully she managed to keep her burger down long enough to land at Phoenix Sky Harbor airport. A commercial jet had been commandeered. Armed guards escorted a dozen people onto the plane. Arizona Senator John McCain was seated next to her. He was in jeans and boots. He looked at her sweat top. "Mercy jail?"

She nodded, taking a bite. "It's a long story, Senator. How about you?"

"My carry on luggage is forty pounds of elk jerky. Does that explain everything?"

She nodded. "Any casualties among your family?"

"Fortunately, no."

Notebooks and cell phones were stowed. The plane took off.

She took another bite of burger. She noticed that Senator Jim Kyl was chewing on a steak two rows over. "Sir, what's the mood on the Hill?"

"John. We're in this war too deep to stand on titles. The Hill is in a panic. Tollman and Kramer were both Democrats. When they were killed in that plane crash, the balance of power shifted. Last night, the Republican margin got even stronger. More Democrats died. In the Senate, the Democrats lost Clinton, Boxer and Kennedy. We only lost Dick Lugar." He shook his head as he started into a stick of elk jerky. "Why?"

Molly shook her head. "Three affluent women living within five miles of each other get exposed at the same time and from the same source. Two become healthy infectees and one dies horribly. We couldn't track down why." She thought for a moment. "They didn't infect those that they didn't think could make it. But all of them they thought would die within five or six years anyway."

"What?"

"Something I heard in Mercy. They deliberately didn't expose some people because they didn't think they would make it. But they weren't concerned because they would all die before the radiation hits Earth anyway."

"I've seen a lot of pork barreling in my time. I thought Threshold was part of it. I was about to put it on my web site as another example of government waste when I got the details from Senator Chambers. Then I really got scared."

She phoned Sean in the jail cell from the plane. She spent most of the flight on the phone trying to talk with him. The taxpayers would get quite a bill, but today she didn't care. The taxpayers were used to it. It wasn't even the first time Threshold had squandered their money – not with Arthur's on line gambling addiction. She needed it. This was all she could do.

More armed guards met them Reagan National. She was separated from the others and taken to a helicopter. In a few minutes, she was landing at the White House.


	16. Chapter 16

In a dark hole in West Virginia, dozens of people silently sat in cells and ate. They didn't speak. Their instinct told them all what to say – and that was nothing.

Two heavily armed guards walked in. One was chewing a beef sausage. The other had a burger. The hamburger eating guard banged on the cell door with his billy club. "Hey Gunneson, do you want to get out of here?"

Gunneson quietly sat inside reading text books and ignored.

The guard gnawing on the sausage banged on another door. "Hey, lady. You want out."

Dreenan grasped the bars, tears in her eyes. "Please, I just want my baby. Please."

Novak stood at his cell door. "Hey, don't you know it's inhumane to torture the zoo animals."

The guard ignored him. "Ain't no babies down in this rat hole. You want out?"

"Yes, please. Let me go find my baby. I must find my baby."

The guard finished his burger and shook his head. "Sorry. Wish I could. But we got orders to keep you here."

Gunnesson laughed. "Yeah, sure. I'll bet it's breaking your heart."

"No man, I really am sorry. First they say you're aliens from outer space. But yesterday was the Superbowl."

"The Superbowl?"

"The Superbowl, and the whole country suddenly got real hungry."

"They infected everyone during the Superbowl?"

The guard nodded. "Except for Robbins. His head kind of exploded into something ugly and he drove his face through a wall. But the rest of us just headaches and ached all over and real hungry when the sound came." He pulled out a ration bar. "Then the Captain ordered everyone that was on duty to go watch the screech."

"If you've been improved then let us out!"

He shook his head. "We tried. We told the Captain that since we are all aliens now we aught to let all y'all go. But no, he said he didn't have the orders. So we're prisoners here too."

Gunneson shook his head. "That's crazy. You can't just let us rot down here. I'm going stir crazy!"

"You think it's boring sitting in your cages watching us watch you? Well it's more boring for us watching you in your cages and now it's worse because it don't make one damn bit of sense."

"At least you get to go home at night."

"My home is a three high bunk rack down the hall. Twelve hours a day, seven days a week we get to march back and forth looking into each cell to make sure you're still there. You got it better than I do."

Novak stared. "It's a trick."

"Lieutenant Novak, you know how stupid Uncle Sam is."

The White House guards ushered Molly into a small office. Inside, Dr. Fenway sat behind a desk. On the desk was the dark dress she usually did briefings in, along with clean underwear, panty hose and shoes. A computer and printer were on the desk. She waved awkwardly. "Hi, Nigel."

He looked at her with something between suspicion and disgust. "Eaten any good cows lately?"

She nodded. "Yes, Dr. Fenway. I am infected. So is Sean. Deal with it. We've got two hours to get a briefing together for the President." Fortunately they had left a pack of baby wipes for her. It was the emergency bath. She quickly took off yesterday's jail clothes and began performing an overall cleaning of her body, starting with the most smelly areas."

Nigel watched her wash. "Are you trying to seduce me? You know, a quick Bill Clinton for infecting my soul?"

She rolled her eyes. "I thought it was Arthur's part to do the rude, sexist comments."

"Well it looks like I'm going to have to take over. Ramsey didn't make it."

She winced. "What? That's awful. How?"

"He jumped off the balcony of his apartment when he realized he was infected."

She shook her head. Everyone said they'd kill themselves if they were infected. He was the last she thought that would actually do it. "I didn't think he had the balls. And the others?"

"J.T., Lucas and the others are alive. J.T. and Lucas are infected."

She scrubbed her back end again, making sure it was clean. "Nigel, we have to brief the President. For your information, I am trying to prepare for the part. Also, I'm pregnant and sex is the furthest thing from my mind."

"Who is the lucky father?"

"Sean." She started dressing. "I haven't even told my mother yet. You're the only one in Washington who knows."

"To what do I owe this singular high honor?"

"Nigel, we have a job to do and not much time and not much information to go on. We represent both sides and I have seen both sides. We know each other. We're professionals and scientists. There isn't a better qualified team. Now get off your high horse and let's get a summary briefing done for the President and the Cabinet."


	17. Chapter 17

Protein bars had replaced cigarettes in the White House cabinet briefing room. Cartons were placed throughout the room. The President took a thick sausage. Molly salivated. Fenway looked at her with disgust.

Molly looked around the room. The Vice President's chair was empty. She stared in surprise. He should have been there. Nigel shook his head. Obviously Cheney didn't make it either. She cleared her throat. "Mr. President. Cabinet secretaries. I'm Dr. Molly Caffrey and this is Dr. Nigel Fenway. We are here give you a situation briefing on the current situation."

She tried to make eye contact with the President. Instead her eyes kept locking onto that sausage he was eating. Down her eyes would go to it. She'd feel herself licking her lips. Then she would jerk her head and eyes up. "We will speak from known and proceed to unknown. Dr. Fenway will first review the spread of the infection."

She stood aside. Secretary Chertoff from Homeland Security had a chocolate protein bar. She could barely stand it. He handed her a tall protein shake. She stayed to the side and drank it as Fenway began his report.

Fenway ignored the great quantity of meat being chewed. Instead he focused his mind on Secretary of State Rice and the cup of coffee she was slowly sipping. "Mr. President, members of the Cabinet. I will speak to you all as if nobody in this room has been infected. As Dr. Caffrey said, we will proceed from known to unknown. We know that yesterday the alien signal was broadcast through the television and satellite radio networks. Most of the people in the country were exposed then. However, the demographic that was exposed the most was the athletic young adult white male. The overnight Nielsen ratings for the Superbowl overlap very well with that of that of the U.S. Armed forces. We estimate that most of the military was infected at that point. However by the time we went to try to sample the infection at three military bases the commanding officer had already ordered everyone to watch a recording of the alien signal. As a net result, we must conclude that our armed forces are almost completely infected."

"We tried estimating how many police have been infected. However I have not been able to get samples from the D.C. Police. For some reason they suddenly seem to be less inclined to cooperate with Threshold."

"We have reports of twenty million dead in the United States. Anybody past the age of puberty could die. Statistically, it seems that people at the lower end of the economic spectrum were more likely to die. The worse the physical condition, the more likely they were to die. Having had exposure to certain viruses dramatically increased the chances of dying. We have identified hepatitis C and HIV as apparently being a death sentence."

"In simple terms, we lost about six percent of our population. The preliminary numbers are that Canada lost a little less. That's not surprising. They have socialized medicine and their population is generally more healthy than ours." Fenway enjoyed watching Bush squirm at his dig but pretended not to notice. "The situation varied greatly from country to country in Latin America. Mexico's death rate apparently was apparently less of ours. Half of the adults in Haiti died. Brazil lost about one adult in six."

"The infection was spread into Europe over a number of broadcasts including major soccer games. Judging by store purchases, perhaps one person in three is infected although we expect this number to rise rapidly. The death rates per infected person are similar to those here, with the United Kingdom, France, Switzerland and Portugal seeming to have a higher death rate and the Scandinavian countries having a lower death rate. The Scandinavian countries always have had a high protein food consumption rate so we may be over-estimating their infection rate. Russia and many members of the former Soviet block had a very high death rate."

"The worst hit continent was Africa. Sub-Saharan Africa was decimated. According to reports from South Africa, Mali, Egypt, Somalia and Madagascar, almost all of the adults in several countries in Sub-Saharan Africa such as Zimbabwe, Botswana, and Malawi have died. Whole villages are completely wiped out. Cities are like ghost towns. South Africa has also been hit hard."

"Unfortunately for White House policy, Iran claims to have less than one person in a hundred die. You'll have to get the CIA spooks to verify that of course, but I was able to go to and see all the Iranian TV channels broadcasting perfectly normally when most of the channels in Thailand and the Russian Federation were down and the ones that were on seemed to be sending emergency news."

"It is difficult to precisely estimate the world wide death toll. This is certainly the single biggest disaster that has happened to humanity with a death toll far higher numerically than the black plague and in many areas higher percentage wise. We estimate half a billion to a billion people either have died or will die over the next few weeks."

That was Molly's queue. She stood in front of the group. Fortunately the protein shake prevented her from involuntarily snatching the jerky the President was gnawing. "Mr. President, we know that many countries have been massively devastated. We know that the surviving countries will have much higher food needs. This closely resembles the scenario 'Doorway.' In Doorway, global warming caused crop failures. We expected mass warfare, with many countries suddenly and opportunistically attacking their neighbors so they could take the farm land. We predicted that the worst hit countries would be attacked first. According to their own TV broadcasts, South Africa has begun occupying its neighbors. Argentina is mobilizing its military forces, possibly against Brazil. We strongly suspect that there will soon be a free for all grab by many countries against Thailand, Myanmar and Cambodia, with Viet Nam expected to take the largest piece."

"The next question is why all of this happened in the first place. We know an alien probe contacted the Bighorn. We have evidence of other contacts. That is definite. What I will tell you next is also definite."

She put up on the screen an ugly misshapen mass in outer space. "That is a picture of the star Eta Carinae taken from the Hubble space telescope. The bright area towards the center is the star itself. Those exploding mushroom shapes are signs of it exploding.

It is 100 times more massive than the Sun and 5 million times as luminous. The monster, as astronomers have described it, had a dramatic outburst in 1841, shining for a time as the second brightest star in Earth's night sky despite being about 7,500 light-years away, or roughly 1,000 times farther away than Sirius, the brightest star in the sky."

"Observation by Dr. Stefan Immler at NASA's Goddard space flight center and at the European Southern Observatory (ESO) in Chile last week shows Eta Carinae is on the verge of instability." She caught President Bush's eyes. He had clearly glazed over. It didn't take much to confuse him, unfortunately.

She continued on, more for the sake of Secretary Chertoff than anyone else. Some members of the cabinet obviously understood every word. But would she be able to convince the President? She smiled and kept talking. "The ESO's observations detail a 'wind' of charged particles plowing out from the star that is estimated to be the equivalent of 500 Earth masses every year. They found that Eta Carinae's stellar wind is dramatically elongated in the polar direction. They believe that this is because atoms at the surface of the star are bombarded with so many photons that star is unstable and is constantly blowing itself away. This also means that when it does blow it will release a massive gamma ray and neutron burst out both sides on the direction of its rotation axis. That picture doesn't make it look like it is pointed at us but the star is rotating."

She looked around the room. Secretary of State's eyes were getting wide, obviously concerned. "How do you know this," Rice asked.

"It came from a study published on the Internet last week by Roy van Boekel of the ESO and the University of Amsterdam. You can double check it with NASA. This data is absolutely verifiable. It's so easily verifiable that a Junior High School student would have come up with the same information if they had googled it."

The President gave her a wry look. "Googled a famous internet search engine, Sir. A very famous one. As I was saying, anybody could find out this information. They could have found out that the coordinates of Eta Carinae are ten hours right ascension, 59 degrees south declination. I found out about Eta Carinae because Captain Manning from the Bighorn, one of the original people infected, gave me those coordinates and told me to investigate them."

"What did he want to know?"

Molly shook her head. "What he wanted us to know, Sir. I heard the same story in Mercy, Arizona from a police officer that had been infected. Eta Carinae blew 7,500 years ago and became a gamma radiation and neutron radiation particle fountain aimed right at Earth."

The President scowled. "Well if he says it blew up 7,000 years ago then he must be lying because you said it's still there."

She managed to not bust up laughing. She could see Nigel bite his lip to maintain composure although a smirky grin did flash across his face. "Sir," she said. "Let me explain. The light we see from Eta Carinae is 7,500 years old. It's 7,500 light years away and it takes 7,500 years to get here. If the star had blown up 7,506 years ago, we would not see the light from the explosion for another six years. Nor would the radiation that also travels at the speed of light reach us for another six years."

The President's eyes clouded over.

Secretary of State Rice leaned over. "Let me explain, Mr. President. If you were a sailor on an island and the only way you get news or mail is by boat and it always takes exactly a year to get there, your news is a year old. You could be following the Presidential elections in the newspapers. The Presidential election could be over and you still wouldn't even know who the party's nominee was."

Bush nodded, kind of. "No absentee ballots, I suppose."

"They'd take a year to get there and a year to get back. It would be the mid-term congressional election until the sailor's Presidential election ballot made it back to get counted. This works the same way."

Secretary of Defense Gates chimed in. "Sir, if you prefer it's like when a rifle fires a bullet. The bullet doesn't hit the target instantly. If you're just standing there and a bullet is coming for you, it doesn't matter that you haven't heard the shot yet. That bullet is still whizzing towards you and there's nothing you can do about it."

Bush nodded. Those terms he understood. Molly smiled. "Thank you very much, Secretary Gates."

_**The details about Eta Carinae come right out of Wikipedia. Is it too much technical detail to be interesting?**_

_**I'd very appreciate your feedback. I've received almost no feedback on this story.**_


	18. Chapter 18

Molly stepped off to the side and grabbed a chocolate protein bar. She felt a bit guilty for eating so much but she was improving for two after all. Besides, she knew she'd have to give up the chocolate soon. She really wanted to breast feed and didn't want to take any chances on a fussy baby.

It was Nigel's turn. He stepped forward. "We are leaving the domain of facts we know to be true. We are now entering the domain of speculation. The question on my mind is why. Why did the aliens come and transform Earth? We do not have an answer. We're now living what would have been fanciful Science Fiction a few months ago. But there is a Science Fiction story I keep thinking of. It's called 'To Serve Man' and it was by Damon Knight. It's an old story, from the early 1950's. Aliens named Kanamits land in New York. Initially we are wary of them but they help us. They eliminate war, disease and hunger, but we only have their word that they are only here to help man. The Kanamits accidentally leave a book and the government gives the book to a code breaker. Eventually he deciphers the title – ' To Serve Mankind.' The leaders of Earth think they have proof of the good intentions of the Kanamits. Eventually he decodes more of the book. It's a cook book. Man has gone from master of the planet to the Kanamit's dinner."

"We do not have proof that the aliens are hostile, but I sincerely feel we must assume they are until we have positive evidence to the contrary. Our whole world is being changed around us. It could be a prelude to colonization by a life form that requires the world to be changed before they can settle here. We might find our lives considered by them as meaningless as a pig we turn into pork chops. This could be an alien scientific experiment. We might be the equivalent of a planet full of white rats to them."

"As a doctor tracking an infection, I believe that most of the people in the United States are now infected. I expect that number to climb rapidly. According to CNN, people are driving through neighborhoods blasting the alien screech. They are cranking it up full blast in airplanes and subway cars and other places where people can not get away. There is already a web site selling a T-shirt that says 'Don't improve me. I'm already improving.' We need to have a fallback if mankind can not survive these massive changes to the human genetic code."

"I propose taking uninfected people underground and keeping them secure and uninfected. We would need to provide uninfected food but that can be done. Certain plants can't pass the infection. They include wheat, corn and the cabbage family, and they alone are enough for a survival diet. If we also raise uninfected crops and livestock in these facilities then we can keep the original human gene pool alive indefinitely. There is no need to provide air filtration. According to all evidence the infection can not be spread by air. I would recommend a large, underground structure like the NORAD facility in Cheyenne Mountain. Something like a salt mine could also be used. There are many old salt mines in Kansas that are now being used to archive records."

This was Molly's queue. She finished her drink and stood. "Like most Americans, I am infected. I am also a scientist. I know that once a gene line is lost, it is lost forever. This seems like cheap insurance. Even if the whole story of the neutron star is true, it can't keep that output level up for long. After a few hundred years, the star will be burned out and the radiation will stop. It is a fact that the infection comes with a high cost – a much faster metabolism that demands more fuel. Mr. President, I had a protein shake and a protein bar since coming to this meeting. How many sausages and jerky sticks have you eaten?"

The President nodded, thinking and trying to count. Molly continued. "If the high octane life style among the infected is no longer necessary, mankind will have a higher chance of long term survival if it re-populates the old low octane genes. To do so, we need plants, people and animals with those genes."

The light seemed to go on in the President's head. He understood. Molly and Nigel were so relieved. "How many people?"

"A minimum of a thousand to get adequate genetic diversity and enough of a skill set. I recommend ten thousand. We must develop and follow a protocol for the scenario that every infected person will suddenly die and only the uninfected will be around to repopulate the world."

The President nodded. "I will sign the executive order and will go before Congress to get long term funding. But we can't use NORAD. It's the heart of our defense system."

Molly smiled. "Sir, that directly leads to our next subject. First, Mr. President, tell me who is the most famous king of all time."

Bush scratched his head. "Henry the Eighth, I don't know. Caesar I guess. Maybe Alexander the Great."

"So, how many statues to Caesar or Alexander the Great do you find in Washington? How many buildings are built to their name? How many signs have their name?"

He shrugged. "Not many I guess."

"Then think again. The king of whom I speak is revered in every city in this country. Statues and pictures are everywhere. Honor and fame is given to him. People even wear his image."

Gates nodded. "The King of Kings."

"Exactly. Two thousand years later, people still follow him when the Caesars who controlled the largest empires on Earth are now all but forgotten,"

"Alright, I'll accept that. I'm a Christian."

"The most optimistic assumption we have about the alien infection now spreading across the globe is that it is what those infected with it say it is. The aliens are trying to help us survive by forcibly mutating us. The highest ranking person among the infectees told me that as soon as the world is 'improved' the aliens will stop visiting us and stop contacting us. We will be on our own. They have limited resources and faster than light inter-stellar travel is extremely difficult for them. They must focus on the next world with intelligent life that will be hit by the radiation. We will receive no alien technology."

Bush nodded. "That sudden foreign aid cut off isn't very friendly."

"They think we have been given enough and to be truly worthy we must show that we can do the rest ourselves." Molly shrugged. "I don't pretend to understand it. It's just what I was told by a former Threshold agent who was infected months ago. Our world is about to go through a time of incredible scarcity. Some plants and animals just aren't going to make it. Our food needs will go way up. With this scarcity, we run the risk of widespread war like we're already seeing in Africa and may be seeing very shortly in Indo-China and South America. Mr. President, mankind no longer has the resources to wage war. If we do, it will be suicide for our species. You right now have the historic chance to be that great leader of peace that the world will revere for thousands of years. Greater than Washington, greater than Lincoln. You won't just save the country. You'll save the world."

Bush stroked his chin. Obviously the idea of statues to him in every town square on Earth appealed to him. "How?"

Nigel stood up. "The first step is to do something that politicians almost never do, and that is tell the truth. Tell the people what we know and what we know we don't know."

Director of Security McConnell shook his head. "That will start panic. People won't be able to handle a sudden alien invasion."

"The people are already in a panic. Telling them the truth will calm them by identifying what they are afraid of and it will build your credibility."


	19. Chapter 19

He was the hunter. He walked the Washington, D.C. streets. He alone would have to stop them. Suddenly they went from an occasional infectee that he would have to search for to being everywhere. He couldn't kill them all. He would have to go for the most valuable targets first.

It was a cold February night. He wore a full length coat. Nobody suspected he had a pistol underneath it. Nobody expected what else he had hidden under the big coat. His primary weapon was a surgical instrument in the pocket though. Sharp, with weight. He preferred to get in close and make a quick, silent kill.

High ranking government officials. That's what he was after. He went to the Mayflower Hotel. The inauguration ball was held there. Senators, judges, important lobbyists and cabinet secretaries frequented their bar. He went in, but before he could select a target he saw the T.V. in the bar. His driver's license picture was on the screen. He listened with astonishment to the narrator. "Dr. Julian Sloan. Born 11-May-1968, Amesbury, Massachusetts. Height six feet. Weight, 175 lbs. Medium to athletic build. Dark brown hair, blue eyes. Sometimes wears glasses. May have disguised appearance to evade capture. Consider as armed and extremely dangerous. Suspected in the murder of a dozen improved people. He is improved. Repeat, he is improved."

He turned, trying to exit without looking like he was fleeing. He had a good disguise. He had shaved his head and had a long blonde beard and mustache on. He was wearing his thick glasses instead of his contacts. Yet he knew that he had gone from being the hunter to the hunted.

It seemed like there were infected police everyplace. It had to be his imagination. No, it didn't. They had made a broadcast on TV. Of course they would be upping the number of police. He was the target of a massive dragnet.

He passed cafes and restaurants and saw aliens talking on their cell phones with their blue tooth headsets. Were their eyes tracking him? Did they notice his face on the bar T.V.? Were they undercover cops? He didn't know. His face was still on the T.V., only now it had glasses and was bald. Then they added a dark beard. This was getting too close for comfort. He walked quicker, towards his car a few blocks away. He would have to get out of the city and pick a new place to carry on the battle.

He shouldn't have left the Mayflower Hotel bar. Once he saw his face on the TV screen he should have selected the best target and pressed the little switch in his pocket. It would be easy. He had thoroughly prepared with research on the Internet. Ironically, his raw material was aspirin from gallon sized bottles in the hospital that had expired. Throw away aspirin that he turned into picric acid and mixed with wax and Vaseline. A detailed Al Qaeda how to video he found on YouTube – "Explosive vests for martyrdom operations" gave him the rest. Under his coat he carried more than enough to do the job. He hesitated though. It was foolish, but he kept wondering how much it would hurt and for how long.

He quickened his pace and got in his car. He turned the ignition. Nothing happened. A car had pulled up right next to him and stopped so he couldn't get out on the driver's side. He checked the passenger's side but a dozen SWAT team officers in flak jackets with assault rifles were suddenly outside his car. "Dr. Julian Sloan. Exit the car, now."

There was one choice, one ultimate option left for him. He would send them all to Hell. He found the little switch in his pocket and pressed it.


	20. Chapter 20

The Washington TV stations barely had time to announce that seven of Washington D.C.'s finest were killed when the terrorist Dr. Julian Sloan exploded his car in a suicide bomb attack when they switched to the White House.

The President sat behind his desk in the Oval Office. This wouldn't be his best written or prepared speech, he knew. They had barely drafted it. He had his glasses on so he could read it as he gave it. But he knew it would be the single most important speech he would ever make. As soon as the camera light was on, he started speaking. "My fellow Americans. As you all know, something mysterious has happened around the world. You have questions and you deserve answers. I will give you all the information we have."

"The changes on Earth are from a signal sent by an alien probe from Outer space. We have definitely and positively been visited by a civilization from another world. Six months ago, the crew of a merchant marine ship named the Bighorn had the signal sent to them by the alien ship. Since then, we set up an agency we code named Threshold to understand the infection and to contain those who had been infected. When people who had been infected sent the signal over TV broadcasts around the world, the world became infected. I am infected. Most of the people in the United States are infected."

"People who have been infected call the infection being 'improved.' You feel great. You're stronger and healthier and can think faster than before, if you aren't one of the unlucky people who die from the infection. I haven't felt this good in thirty years. We estimate about eighteen million people or six percent of the adult population in the United States died, including Vice President Cheney, one member of the Supreme Court, four Senators and 26 Congressmen. This is the single largest disaster in the history of this country."

"Comparing our death numbers to the rest of the world, we were pretty lucky. Few countries had a verified death rate lower than 5. The worst hit area was Sub-Saharan Africa. The adult population in many countries has almost been wiped out. The experts from Threshold guess that about half a billion people died world wide."

"So, what happens when you get improved? Dr. Nigel Fenway from Threshold has begun preparing scientific explanations and you'll have those at the end of my speech. Anyone has been improved has learned real fast that you eat like a horse. The body is changing a lot and these new bodies burn a lot more fuel."

"The next question is why. Why did the aliens zap us with these signals? We don't know for sure. We have been told by infected people who are in contact with them. They say that in six years, Earth will be bathed in neutron radiation by a star named Eta Carinae. They say that in six years that any living thing on Earth that isn't 'improved' will die. We don't know that's true for sure, but that is what they tell us. They say the aliens are those strange black things you saw in your dreams in that forest of glass. They say those aliens will now leave us alone and go save the next intelligent civilization that will be destroyed by the neutron radiation."

"Is this true? We don't know. But with what little we have to go on we are going to assume for now it is true."

"What do we do? We stop the panic. Tomorrow, I want this Congress to pass and put two bills on my desk. The first bill is to make it a felony civil rights violation punishable by ten years in jail per conviction for improving someone against their will unless you're their legal guardian. The second bill is to add to all civil rights laws that it is illegal to discriminate on whether someone is improved or not. Not in hiring, not in service, not in school, not anywhere. Improved and unimproved people must work together to re-build America. I don't want any partisan claptrap. I want those bills ready to sign before dinner time tomorrow."

"After that, Congress should draft and pass legislation to approve reservations for unimproved people who don't want to be improved and don't even want to be around improved people. This isn't for hate or malice. It's insurance. What if there is some horrible side effect of improvement we don't know of? The unimproved should stand ready to replenish America."

"As I said, the improved eat like horses. The world does not have the agricultural capacity to feed the improved. The world has to change, and it has to change right now. I've painfully seen hundreds of billions of dollars and thousands of American lives get flushed down the toilet in Iraq and Afghanistan. That stops right now. As Commander in Chief, I am calling for an immediate cease fire in Iraq and Afghanistan. As soon as we have the cease fire, we will begin an immediate withdrawal of all out troops from those countries and from support bases in nearby countries. We'll help you with your agriculture when you can achieve peace and stability on your own. In the mean time, we will help those who can be helped. The same thing goes with the rest of the Mideast. I call for an immediate halt to all foreign aid, civilian or military, by all countries until the country shows that they are living in peace. When Israel makes peace with Palestine and the Arab countries make peace with Israel and Israel makes peace with its Arab neighbors then we will return with agricultural aid."

"I call upon all nations in the world now. We do not have the resources to waste fighting wars. Wars between nations must end today. I ask all nations to immediately and unconditionally enter into a simple treaty. If the weapons of the armed forces of a country are fired on a country that is a member of this treaty, all nations who are a member of this treaty must immediately declare war on that offending nation and prosecute war until that nation withdraws and ceases all hostilities."

"The United States is the world's largest arms exporter. By dollar amount, we sell almost twice as much as the next country, Russia. Between the two of us we sell the world $60 billion dollars of death a year. Between the twenty top countries, we sell the world $140 billion dollars of death a year. This must stop. I am calling for an immediate halt to arms exports for anything except bullet for exact bullet, gun for gun replacements. The world does not have the time or money to waste billions on guns when we have to start feeding people."

"Some may say it is unrealistic to dismember the military-industrial complex. They'll talk about the damage to their economy. They'll talk about worries about national defense. The alternative is for the world to starve to death, and if you want to see world wide war you wait for that."

"Now, I am not saying to muster out the world's armies. Far from it. The United States intends to use our troops to help build infrastructure to survive when the radiation hits. The world's young men and women in uniform have a lot they can do here and there's none finer than those in the American armed forces. But there is something I want to propose to the world's leaders who sign the treaty I spoke of. We all start exchanging troops. It will make the world's defense departments a whole lot less nervous if they know that they have people inside the armies of their neighbors and know what's going on there. Perhaps more importantly, the longer we spend learning about each other the faster we're going to break down the walls of fear and ignorance. Right now, we've only got six years to do it in."

"This is a world with many cultures, languages and Gods. But we're all one people, human. Tonight I ask all the world's people to petition their governments to drop the years of hostility and prejudice before it's too late. We have six years to completely change the world. If we succeed, we will make a paradise on Earth full of peace and true universal brotherhood. If we do not succeed, it will surely be a Hell. Good night."


	21. Chapter 21

Molly and Nigel watched the President's speech from the cabinet room. She had been grazing on anything left over from the cabinet meeting. Protein bars and protein shakes. She even sampled the Presidential beef jerky.

After the speech, Molly pulled out her Blackberry and phoned the Mercy jail. Hogan was furious. "What do you mean you're making it illegal to improve people?"

"Only illegal to improve people against their wishes."

"They'll die. Being unimproved is a death sentence."

"So be it. Most of the country is improved. It's now up to you to convince the rest of the country that they should want to be improved."

"The news from Phoenix had pictures of the mass graves of those that rejected or underimproved. Back hoes digging huge holes. Bodies were burned without ceremony and covered over like trash."

"You should have thought of that before you forcibly improved most of the country all at once. What else could they do with all the corpses? How many people died in Phoenix?"

Nigel quickly looked up the statistics. "The last count was over 107,000 and rising."

Hogan didn't answer.

"Dr. Fenway says over 100,000. What else are you going to do with a hundred thousand dead bodies? It's a public health risk. You've got to take care of them or you'll have a disease outbreak.

" Those pictures were like the Nazi death camps. They make us look like mass murderers."

"But you are murderers. Eighteen million Americans are dead today who would have been alive if you hadn't sent out that signal."

"But we were trying to save lives. The whole country, the whole planet would have died in six years if we hadn't."

"According to the law of the land, that's still eighteen million counts of murder."

"How do we get the rest of the country to get improved if you start Nuremberg trials?"

Molly knew the trials had to come, and Sean's brother would be on trial. But she could not argue that with him now. "You need to start waging a public relations campaign. How will football and baseball teams of improved players do against teams of unimproved players? With their strength, endurance and hand eye coordination they'll slaughter them. Every kid with a basketball will want to be improved. The improved are going to blow out the curve on college entrance exams. The unimproved are going to get shut out. Think how you can show being improved as the fountain of youth. Senior citizens crippled by osteoporosis will suddenly be strong and pain free, if they are just willing to take the chance."

"Maybe. I don't know."

"You can do it. The important thing for you is that the President has come clean and it's now all out in the open. No more hiding. No more whole towns being hidden away in Guantanamo."

"Let's talk about Allenville. When do you bring them home?"

"They're going to have to work out some way so the government can't be sued. That takes lawyers and legal wrap. But it will happen."

"What about the ones in the hole in West Virginia?"

"That's harder. They committed serious crimes. You're going to have to get the ACLU to file petitions with the court for them to be granted fair and speedy trials. Libby Drennan has the best chance. She obviously committed a crime of passion without a weapon and can argue diminished capacity or temporary insanity due to the mental strain during improvement. The worst they can prosecute her for is manslaughter and resisting arrest. Now how is Sean doing?"

"Slowly improving."

"Let me talk to him."

She could feel her voice soften and her pitch go up when Sean was there. It was that warm, involuntary, smiling tone of love. "Hi, Honey. How are you?"

"Alive."

"This is good. Did you see the President?"

"I heard it. They turned the TV up."

"So what do you think?"

"I don't know. Is it all over?"

"The war is over and Threshold lost it. Now we have to go on."

"What will happen to us?"

"As soon as you're strong enough, I'll have you med-evac'd to Washington and into Walter Reed. They say in a few days you'll be good as new."

"How about you come back here. There's an opening in the Sheriff's department."

She could feel it. A little house like the Teller's. Him a local police officer and her a simple schoolteacher. Her sitting in a rocking chair and nursing their little girl. Sean coming home at night and them kissing and having dinner. Them being parents to their daughter. "I want to go back. Everything inside me cries that I want you and my daughter, but right now the country needs us here. The world needs us here."

"I don't know what the world needs any more. What do I believe in? I spent six months fighting and now what, am I supposed to just join?"

"Is your brother there?"

"Yes."

"Don't think of the world right now. Don't think sides of a war. Think of your family. Think of your brother. Think of me, and think of our daughter. I promise you, as soon as we stabilize things a little in Washington we're leaving for good. So you get well for that Sheriff's job."

"Washington will just suck you in again. Another crisis and another crisis."

"Our baby is not being born in Washington. I promise you that."

"Do you promise?"

"I really promise. If you want it to be by your family farm in Illinois, that is where we will go. If you want us to settle in Mercy, then I will resign and move before our baby is born."

"I love you."

"I love you too. I'll call in the morning. You get yourself well. Bye."

As she put down the phone, she noticed Nigel was closing his cell phone. He turned to her. "There is one bit of justice in all of this. Do you remember Paula, my third ex wife?"

"The one who hired the private investigator?"

"She's on the confirmed dead list."


	22. Chapter 22

"Hi, Honey. I'm home."

Molly looked up. Sean came into her office, still in his country sheriff's uniform. She was taking a break, nursing Noreen and scratching Monster, her French bulldog who was lying on the chair beside her. He stared at the dog. "Get out of there, Fart Monster."

Monster pinned his ears back but jumped down. Molly saw Sean's foot prints on the floor. "You're tracking mud."

"Sorry about that. I had this idiot kid run from the car into the cow pastures when we stopped him for drunk driving. I thought I had scraped it all off." He got a towel and cleaned it up. "Now how are you two doing?"

"She's been fussing some, not too bad." She handed her to him. He kissed her on her bare breasts, licking up the milk. "Ooh, that tickles." She quickly closed her nursing bra and blouse.

"Just got to do it. I stopped and got a bag of Bandino Burgers and a couple of chicken salads the way you like them on the way home."

"Thanks. I'm tired."

He handed her back and then put the bag on the dining room table and put out some plates and paper towels. "How's work going?"

"Not bad. I'm most of the way through the resource allocation phase for that project to improve olives."

"I didn't know there was that much to improving olives."

She nodded. "There are 147 varieties in the official U.S. Department of Agriculture olive gene bank and we're going to save them all. This is going to be the model project plan for improving other crops."

"As long as it doesn't mean going back to Washington."

"There may be a few short trips to Davis, California where the national olive germplasm repository is. But nothing beyond an overnight. And I've already told them I need feeding time for Noreen during all the meetings."

"Good. Sister Teller is coming over at 7:30 tonight."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "Oh, what for?"

"So she can watch Noreen while you and I run upstairs and I get to play with those milky boobs."

"Dr. Caffrey?" It was Nigel's voice.

There was an alarm buzzing. She looked around. She was in her room at Threshold headquarters. Because of security concerns and the workload, she had given up having any semblance of a life months ago. Nigel was tapping on her shoulder. He had a meal cart from the detention cells. " You didn't answer your phone so I ordered you breakfast and came in to wake you."

"Damn. What time is it?"

"It's a little past 9:00 AM. We've got the spooks from NSA coming at 10:00, remember?"

"Thanks." She didn't want to be woken. She'd rather have seen how the dream finished. But duty, honor and country called. She looked at the food service cart. Steak and scrambled eggs. She was hungry. She hadn't had a proper dinner last night. She cut up the steak and mixed it into the eggs and began devouring it.

Nigel was stunned as she quickly finished the plate. "That was one pound steak and a half a dozen eggs. I got it as a joke."

"It was good. Hit the spot. Thank you." She headed into the little bathroom she'd had built for the room and started a quick shower. Nigel turned on the TV and found a Presidential press conference. He turned it up so she could listen with the water on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the President of The United States."

Bush's voice filled the room. "Good morning. You have come here with questions looking for answers. So are we. We will answer any of your questions that we can. If we don't know then we don't know. There's a lot going on right now we don't know the answer to but we promise to try. And just to show how different the world is, I am going to do something extremely dangerous. Ms. Helen Thomas, you have the first question."

Helen Thomas was the grand old lady of the White House press corps. She had started her career covering President Kennedy and it was no secret how much she and Bush despised each other. She had publicly called Bush the worst President in American history. When she rose, Nigel saw how much steadier her stance was and how her face was firmer than the last press conference. If this was any indication of what improvement had done she would be bugging presidents for many decades. "Mr. President, is there truth to the rumor that North Korea and Iran have asked to join your treaty?"

"Helen, that rumor is absolutely true."

"What are you going to do about their request?"

"That's a second question. And to be extra nice, I'll answer. Helen, I am going to do something that a week ago would have been unthinkable. I'm going to welcome them in, as long as they live by all the principles of the treaty. No attacking anyone else. Defend proportionally to their strength any member of the treaty that is attacked. No weapons exports except bullet for bullet replacements. Full participation in the military exchange program. And with that goes a written promise to the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. Not only will America never attack you but we'll defend you." Bush pointed to Bill Plante of CBS News. "Bill."

"You called Iran and North Korea part of an axis of evil. Yet now you're offering military exchanges and aid programs."

"Right on both counts. The world has changed. We have a historic new situation. I do hope that the world will improve now, in many ways. North Korea has been a country on the verge of starvation for decades. With almost five times the food needs they have four options: They can do nothing and starve. They can start a war in hopes of getting lebensraum and they'll have to do it almost immediately while they still have enough food reserves to do it with. They can try to sell enough weapons to buy food on a world market where less weapons are bought and food is far, far more expensive. Or they can peacefully join the world community. If I don't let them into the treaty, they will have no choice but to declare everything an American plot and attack South Korea or Japan. Now I wish to issue a challenge to President Lee Myung-bak of South Korea and Premier Kim Jong Il of North Korea. You're both going to be running short of farm land and getting hungry soon. You have a demilitarized zone that is about 150 miles long and three miles wide between you. End your war, today. Start taking down the fences. Clear the landmines. Farm that demilitarized zone. We'll be glad to help you clear the mines. Once those landmines are gone, the United States will sign the world wide land mine ban treaty." The President looked around to the correspondent from PBS. "Ms. Warner."

"What about Iran?"

"They hate the American government." The press room broke into nervous laughter. Bush waited for it to subside. "Well, they do. If I were from Iran, I would probably hate the American government too. There's been a lot of bad blood over the last half century. We had tried for years to work with much more limited diplomatic and trade sanctions to prevent them from building weapons of mass destruction because we saw the Islamic Republic of Iran as a lot more a part of the world community than North Korea. We hope we will have improved relationships in this post-improved world, and I think we have made a historic start. We don't have time to keep the old hates. America will forget the pre-improved past and move forward with any nation that will live by the terms of the treaty. Now we have got some good and long allies who want to join. Germany. Japan. Poland. Denmark, Costa Rica, Sweden, and Iceland. We have some nations that we've had relations with for years but are new to this sort of strategic alliance, like the Palestinian Authority. We welcome them all. But let me tell the world. You're all welcome, no matter how much you hate us or we hate you." Bush turned to David Gregory of NBC News. "Dave?"

She stepped out of the shower, looking at herself in the mirror. Was her belly pooching out yet? It had to just be breakfast. She dried off and dressed. She listened more closely to the speech as she started a quick makeup job and brushing of her hair.

"We have seen footage of food riots. People are saying they don't have the money to eat now. How will low income people afford to improve?"

"Our first response to rioters is the local police. If the police need assistance, we surely will make the National Guard available. Rioters will be prosecuted to the limits of the law."

"Second, the FDA will shortly add to their web site a list of inexpensive meals to improve on. You have to cook it yourself. But you can do it and it's healthy and well balanced and it has all the protein you need. They will add three dollars or less per day to your food budget."

"Third, while the food budget for being improved will go up some, other expenses will go down even more. People will be sick far less often. People will heal faster. Our bodies regenerate. In 2005, the average American's total medical care cost per day was $18.35. If the average person puts only a quarter of that into food, they will have plenty of money to improve on. Yet how much will they save at the doctor's? We have received thousands of documented cases of people who were in Senior Citizens homes who were crippled in wheel chairs or were mindless with end stage Alzheimer's who considered hopeless just getting up, getting dressed and walking out after the Superbowl. We've even had people who were terminal and in hospices waiting to die get up and walk on out. In improved America, food will be our medicine and our own bodies are going to be doing most of our healing."

Nigel shook his head. There were liars, damned liars and statisticians. Technically, everything Bush said was true. If you wanted to eat a pound of beans, a pound of rice and a pound of corn meal a day, you could get enough protein. But few people would be building mega-burritos. Most would want the convenience and taste of meat. Was it true that the average person spent $18 a day on health care in 2005? Probably. But that was a middle income person who had health insurance.

The next question was by the correspondent from Reuters. "The report from the Hill is that many Congressional leaders say it is completely unrealistic to have two bills like you requested done in one day."

"White House lawyers wrote a good version last night and gave it to Congress. Congress should be able to get it passed by lunch time. Anybody from either side of the isle who does any procedural tricks to hold it up should be ashamed of themselves and I assure you this Presidency will not forget it." He pointed to the correspondent from the Wall Street Journal. "Mr. McKinnon."

"Mr. President, who will be unemployed and who will do well in the post-improved era?"

"John, anything I can say is a guess. Obviously the food companies that can make inexpensive and convenient food to improve on will have to do well and those companies that supply agribusiness will see an upturn. But with all the stories I have seen on TV of people getting up and walking out of hospitals after being improved I'd be real nervous if I were a high priced exec in a pharmaceutical company." The President turned to the reporter from Scripps Howard news. "Ann McFeathers."

"Mr. President, will your position on ecological issues like global warming change in the post-improved era?"

"Ann, that isn't the issue I've thought about the most in the last couple of days. But there will have to be a change. As the President of the United States, I was trying to come up with the best way to maximize the chance that the America's people would remain strong and prosperous and minimize risk that something would go wrong. Food production was more than adequate last week, yet there was a great external risk to our security from many countries. Now, food production is the most critical issue worldwide. We can't take afford the small risk of global warming causing an increase to El Nino because now even a small climate change will have devastating global impact. We're going to have to come up with a plan. I don't know what it is yet. Right now I'd like to hear the input from our treaty partners and allies to make a single global plan that everyone will stick to. It's going to hurt, but not as much as going hungry."

She took a final look at herself before stepping out of the bathroom. She looked years older than she did six months ago. She would have to do something about those gray hairs coming in. But right now she didn't have the strength to care. She turned to Nigel, who flicked off the T.V. "So what's the news on the street?"

"The stock market is up some. The Dow took a real tanking on Monday."

"That is a good sign. The people's confidence level was raised by the President's speech."

"Yes. The end of the world is in six years and not tomorrow. Enough time to make more profit in the market."


	23. Chapter 23

"We achieved less than nothing," J.T. said, watching the NSA spooks leave with all the access codes as he chewed on a sausage. "All that work, years of brownnosing to Andrea Hatton, doing all the dirty work the Administration asked for to get that top job at the NSA. All it did was end my career."

She chewed a protein bar and stared at Arthur's empty stool in the conference room, depressed. "Threshold had become a political embarrassment for the President in his post-improved world." She looked at the now small group. "So where is everyone going next?"

Lucas spoke first. "I'm not going anyplace. The NSA just made me a job offer to work with them to understand the alien technology. Bigger lab, more money."

J.T. nodded. "Figures."

"It's not like that. Rachel wants to stay. She likes the job you two got her." He smiled knowingly. "Rachel wants to have a baby too."

Molly knew that look. "Did she dream a boy or a girl?"

"Boy. How did you know?"

"I had the same dream. Only it's a girl." She smiled. "Congratulations."

"Yeah. Lot of big changes."

Nigel smirked. "And all of them post-Superbowl I'll bet."

"Oh, don't mind him, Lucas."

"Don't mind him. Don't mind him. Now you're dismissing me just because I still have my original double helix."

She thought for a moment. Was that it? Was she now sure that only improved people would understand? "Nigel, that's ridiculous!"

"Nigel, Rachel and I had been talking about children since before we got married. Only now we both wanted to talk about it and it felt like the right time. All the work stress being over and all."

"No stress. Mankind lost. You won."

Molly's eyes flashed fury. "Nigel, none of this went the way we had intended. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Arthur died. You have no idea how much that bothers me. But it happened. We followed our orders as well as possible and did what we thought was best. There's nothing we have to apologize for."

"Oh really. I'm amazed someone who has lived in the Beltway so long could be that naïve. We all fought on the losing side of the war. How many heroes of the new genetic order did you personally kill? How many did you imprison? Do you think we will be allowed to escape the 'post-improvement' war crimes trials?"

J.T. nodded. "Yes. There will be too much complaining from the unimproved about the eighteen million who died, so the President will have to issue amnesty to them. And when he does he'll have to look even handed and so he'll pardon us as a political expediency. That's just the way the game goes."

She thought back to what that reverend had said in his sermon. Would it all work out? Would they all quietly be forgiven? "I hope so. So, Nigel, what are you going to do?"

"The spooks offered me a position heading the lab that is learning about the new physiology and genetic code and what it means."

"And?"

"I turned it down. I am getting too old for all this shit. You'll never guess what I am going to do?"

They all looked at him, knowing that it had to be something that he found humorously insulting to them all.

"Daphne Larson and I are starting a company. 'Unimproved Foods.' We'll advertised it as food for unimproved people who want to stay that way."

Molly nodded. "It could work."

Lucas turned to her. "So what are you going to do next?"

"I don't know, but it isn't going to be in Washington."

J.T. shook his head. "After all this time in Washington, you're just leaving like that?"

She nodded. "Just like that. Lucas, I'll make you and Rachel a great deal on my house. Ten percent under market, because once I leave here I am not coming back."


	24. Chapter 24

"Get me a diaper for your brother. I think he's had a gushy one."

Little Noreen trotted over and pulled a Pampers out of the pack and put it on the changing table.

It had been hard enough nursing Noreen. Molly had felt like a cow, doing nothing but chewing improved cud and being milked. But James was so much bigger and hungrier than Noreen was, and times were getting harder. Of course President Obama's food rationing plan and food price freeze was just making everything worse. If Sean hadn't insisted that they put all the spare money they had into food years ago, they would be stuck living on the Federal ration like everyone else. Well, everyone who wasn't fortunate enough to be living on four acres in a rural town. At least they had a full garden and hutches full of rabbits.

Little James's butt was a mess. Fortunately Noreen didn't seem to mind wiping and scraping the fudge off into paper and trotting it out to compost pile.

They had descended down to the point where they were recycling their own poop to make more food. Except on cold nights, they didn't even bother with the indoor plumbing any more.

Five years ago, she had been living in Washington DC as a high priced consultant. Monster was her only friend. Poor Monster. She'd spent four long, dusty days driving with Monster from Washington back to Arizona. Thank Heavens Motel Six let her keep a pet in the room. She cried when the coyotes got him after he ran out.

She first saw the changes in the world during that drive. Half the songs on the radio included the "space music" screeching. Mozart was normally her taste, but even the classical public radio stations kept mixing in the 'Post-Modern Orchestrations." She was so desperate she bought some Country Western CD's in a truck stop in Arkansas. It was there that she saw her first "No bathrooms without purchase" sign. She guessed it was logical; four times as much in, four times as much out. It had to go some place, and every McDonald's along the highway was tired of it being in their hopper. Then an even more dreaded sign went up. "No more meat." The official warehouses of the big restaurant chains quickly emptied. Small places that could adapt their menus did better, but the national dietary shock was beginning as meat prices soared.

At first, there was always enough consulting work. Someone had to plan the protocols for dealing with overflowing jails or radiation induced communications grid failures. But when Obama banned non-emergency passenger civilian air travel as part of the global environmental reforms treaties, she couldn't travel to meetings. With the ban on non-government gasoline cars, it took hours to get to the train station in Tucson by bus, and then it took eight miserable hours on the train just to reach Los Angeles station. It would be years before the high speed passenger rail service ran close enough to Mercy.

She taped down the diaper and patted James's fat tummy. What was Molly Caffrey doing living like a pioneer, tending rabbits and garden crops? She'd had a lawn service for her house in Virginia. She had wanted to move back to a city, but Sean said they should stay put. For years, she couldn't understand why. Half the town still glowered at her for having been the head of Threshold. If it weren't for her Church family and the Internet, she'd have gone nuts. But slowly she saw how much worse things were getting in the cities. Obama's plan was to have everyone grow their own supplementary food on little plots of land in cities, like World War II England. What a joke.

Bruno and Heidi sprang to the window, their tails wagging. The changing table shook from their deep barks. She grabbed the revolver and peaked out the curtains. It was Sean. What was he doing home so early? She watched him as he carried a trash bag inside. "Hi Honey," he said cheerfully. "I bring loot."

Noreen perked up. "What did you get me, Daddy?"

He opened the bag, showing a doe's head. "Dinner."

She smiled brightly, like any good improving child when given protein. "Oh Daddy!"

Bruno and Heidi were enraptured, growling at each other for position as they sniffed the carcass with their massive tongues hung out. They sounded like two puffing freight trains.

Molly put her hand on it. The deer was still warm. "Where did you get it?"

"On the 78 not far from the junction. A bus hit her and didn't even stop. I'm not even sure if he noticed." He dragged it into the kitchen.

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"We're supposed to distribute it to the worthy poor. Four of us on a sheriff's salary. Not many are more worthy or poorer. You're going to have to dress it out. I've got to get back to work."

She nodded silently and put James in his porta-crib, then headed to the kitchen to start to work. This was another task that she couldn't have seen herself doing five years ago. Meat was something that came in little plastic wrapped packages, totally detached from any animal it may have once been a part of. Not any more. She grabbed a gut hook knife and calmly began disemboweling the animal on a kitchen counter. Bruno and Heidi's big brown eyes were riveted to the task. Soon Gunter and Eva came in the house and joined them, brightly smiling and flashing long teeth. The whole wolf pack was lined up, growling and pushing. They knew they would eat well tonight on the lungs, kidneys, liver and other internal organs. At first Molly didn't want dogs that were so big, and the fine fluff that came from their constant shedding drove her nuts. She could never have imagined how attention craving German Shepherds were. They were constantly putting their muzzles in her hands to be scratched. She worried if the baby would be safe around them. But after the pack took apart an intruder coming through the bathroom window she got used to having an escort every place she went. "I got an e-mail from Nigel. They finally got him."

"How?"

"A sound truck like they use for improving wild animals. It pulled up in front of his estate and zapped him as he was getting out of his car."

"It's only amazing he'd ditched improvement so many years. So will he close his unimproved food business now?"

"Of course not. You know Nigel."

There was a call from Sean's radio. He answered it then turned to Molly. "I got to go. Love you. And be careful with the hide. I want to use it."

It would be very much appreciated if I could get some reviews. I'm very much trying to decide which way to take the story next. Right now, it's moving towards Molly and Sean and their family learning to adapt in a rapidly changing world. But is that enough? What other directions can it go in? What can happen?


	25. Chapter 25

It was a beautiful, crisp summer night. This was her favorite time. The children were down. The house was quiet and since the draconian environmental laws had gone into effect, the skies were so beautiful. She would walk around outside the house by the gardens and look. Sometimes she would use Sean's spotting scope and look at the moons of Jupiter or the rings of Saturn. Sometimes she would count the shooting stars. But what she enjoyed the most was staring at the Milky Way stretching across the sky.

This night, she noticed something odd. At first she thought it was just her imagination. Then she was sure of it, there were ghostly green flickers in the sky. As she watched, they grew bigger and brighter. Streaks of red sparkled in the sky as well, highlighting the green. She had seen it before when she was a child in Nebraska. It was the aurora borealis, or Northern Lights. It was normally a phenomenon of the far North in Alaska and Canada and had never heard of it in summer.

She went inside to get Sean. He had turned the TV set around and was checking the connections. "I think something just died."

She shook her head. "Come outside."

He followed her, figuring that the satellite dish must have fallen down. But it didn't seem to be. Then he noticed the lights in the sky. He stared at it silently. He knew what it was but had never actually seen it. It was brighter than a full moon and growing brighter as he watched. He pulled his driver's license out of his wallet and could easily read it.

She checked the cell phone in her pocket. There was no signal. It had a full charge. She had called her mother just a few hours ago with it. She knew how an aurora formed. Charged particles in the upper atmosphere glowed. This normally could only form where the Earth's magnetic field was weakest, near the poles. But this was so strong that it was happening at the 40th parallel. It wasn't just a few flickers in the sky. It was an ugly green overcast light that lit the sky and was still growing in strength. It seemed to be strongest towards the South. "I think it's hit."

"The nova?"

She nodded. "Eta Carinae isn't visible above about 30 degrees North. But it must be lighting the sky in South America. I'll bet they can see it during the daytime in Australia."

"CNN news said Obama was flying tonight to Sydney for a big conference. I'll bet he's getting quite a show."

Molly nodded, turning seeing how the car antennas and the TV antenna was alive with a bright blue and violet ghostly dancing flame. "That's something I've never seen before."

Sean held his hand up. "Listen." There was an odd hissing sound.

"Last night I saw St. Elmo's stars  
With their glittering lanterns all at play.  
On the tops of masts and the tips of spars.  
And knew we should have foul weather today.

from _The Golden Legend_ by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow."

"I didn't know you liked Longfellow."

"There are lots of things about me you don't know yet." He began unbuttoning her blouse. "How about getting fired up under the St. Elmo's Fire."

"It's too bright. Let's go inside."

In the morning the sky was normal. She put the TV back together. She couldn't get anything on Dish network and switched to the antenna to see if the TV was working at all. Reception was bad but she got Channel Phoenix's 5. It was before 10:00. It should have been some stupid reality or game show but Dianna Sullivan was on. She was the noon and 5:00 news anchor. She normally did the smiling blonde talking head act very well. Today she was ashen. "Today is a day full of tragedy, so many that it is difficult to know where to start. The long awaited eruption of Eta Carinae has finally occurred, and it has brought unimaginable tragedy, including the death of President Obama. Most of the United States was shielded from the direct hard radiation of the nova but Hawaii and parts of Texas, Florida, Louisiana and Alabama were hit hard. President and Mrs. Obama along with Secretary of State Richardson were aboard Air Force One over the Pacific between Hawaii and Australia when the radiation hit. Wreckage has been recovered in the vicinity of their last position. We repeat, Barack Obama, 44th President of the United States, is dead."

"The death was not limited to the President. Almost every jet plane that was below the 30th parallel and was flying at altitude crashed. This was the single worst day in aviation history. An estimated three thousand people were killed on dozens of airplanes, from U.S. top gun pilots on night training to a military transport plane in Brazil that taking soldiers to fight a forest fire in the Amazon. Planes simply dropped out of the sky. One of the few planes that survived was a Cubana de Aviación Ilyushin IL-76M cargo plane that was making a delivery from Havana to Costa Rica and was over the Caribbean at the time. The pilot allegedly reported that all onboard electronics and navigation equipment failed."

"According to reports sent by amateur radio operators, the entire electrical power system in Central and South America failed. Except for scattered private generators the entire continent was dark. All telephone switching equipment has been damaged. Most computerized equipment has also failed. There are widespread reports of accidents, riots and massive theft. Police, fire fighters and medical services were unable to respond because they weren't receiving emergency calls with all telephone systems down and even when they did know where to go their vehicles were almost all rendered inoperative because of the electromagnetic disruption caused by Eta Carinae."

Molly stared at the television as Dianna Sullivan continued describing the death and destruction, remembering what she had ordered done to Miami. The whole region had gone dark. How many were killed that night? Over a thousand died just because their pacemakers failed. How many burned to death because fire alarms didn't work and fire trucks wouldn't start? She couldn't even think of it. All those dead, pages after pages of them, because she was sure she knew what she was doing. What would happen to her soul? How would she be judged by God? "I was only following orders." Would she spend eternity with the Nazi SS who exterminated Jews?

"Are you alright, Mommy?"

She found that she had been crying. Little Noreen had crawled into her lap.

"What's wrong, Mommy?"

Molly looked down at Noreen, hugging her. She was always the cheerful little angel, always trying to help. "The President died. A lot of people were hurt last night."

"What about us? What about you and Daddy?"

"No, we will be fine. It all happened far away." She wiped away the tears and turned off the TV.

* * *

_**I realized I made a scientific error in the old version of this chapter. I think I also missed a great deal dramatically by jumping ahead too soon. I still don't have any reviews. It would be very much appreciated if**__**somebody**__** would review it soon.**_


	26. Chapter 26

Sean didn't like Obama, he thought as he drove the streets. He'd never liked Obama. "Better a bro than a hoe," he always said to himself, thinking of the Democratic candidates in the election Obama first won. But he along with the rest of Arizona had voted for McCain. Still, having the President's plane drop out of the sky was terrible. His mother had told him how the nation went into shock when Kennedy was assassinated. His dad had moonlighted in the appliance section of Zair's department store. When Ruby shot Oswald live on nation wide TV, it was too much. He went around and turned off every TV in the store.

He'd heard some news in the station. All their communications satellites that the Arizona Department of Public Safety used were down. Even all the weather satellites were down. The National Weather Service was in disaster recovery mode. They were officially in both hurricane and typhoon season and this was the time of year when tornadoes would strike Illinois. There would be no early tornado warnings. Another Katrina could hit before a city could begin to evacuate.

His GPS unit was completely down. He had depended on it to quickly find some of the more obscure locations. But the unit just kept flashing "Network unreachable" on its display.

All the modern things in his patrol car that he had depended on for five years were gone. There was no computer link to NCIC or the other Federal databases or even to car registration. Those were based on satellites and high speed data connections. All of that was gone. Even his police radio was not working. He couldn't get the Mercy sheriff's office but he could talk to patrol cars in Georgia. It was insane.

His patrol car was now little better than one from the 1940's. He could barely and very unreliably make contact to the sheriff's office with his cell phone. He had none of the high tech support. He couldn't even get an ID run on a car he was about to pull over.

He thought it rather ironic. Now they positively knew there was other intelligent life in the universe and that Earth had even been visited by it. But the price of that knowledge was that humanity became trapped on Earth without any possibility of a meaningful space program. It would be centuries until they could try. By then, humanity would have accepted the existence of others in space for centuries. Perhaps man would have even evolved into something civilized.

Molly didn't like Obama either, but when she heard the news she ran outside. Mrs. Fernandez, the neighbor in the next house, had run out too. They ran towards each other, crying all the way, holding and hugging each other. She remembered all the McCain signs in front of the Fernandez's home. They didn't like Obama either.

She spent the day numb, watching the same news channel. Every hour or so they would say something new. NASA had lost contact with the space station. They feared the worst. The girl who presented the weather forecasts said the National Weather Service's prediction had a much lower confidence level because all weather satellites were down. She made a note to herself to call Dish Network and cancel their subscription.

Noreen sat by her. "I want to see Doodlebops. This is boring."

"The TV is having problems. This is all I can get."

"Can you fix it?"

Molly shook her head. "I don't know, little angel." She tried to find channel eight, Phoenix PBS. Instead she got KPTS in Wichita, Kansas. The picture wasn't as clear as usual, but it had Dragon Tales. "It's this or a video."

"Spongebob."

She dug out a Spongebob Squarepants video. That gave her some time. She needed it.

Today was the end of all her contingency plans. All the disasters had come.

Calm. Breathe in deeply through your nose and out your mouth. She'd always been a worrywart. It was why she was so good in writing protocols for disasters. In many ways, she and Sean were exactly the opposite. He had a very calm, relaxed personality that allowed him to think clearly while in the midst of a crisis. He cultivated that calm. Now she was trying to learn some of it from him.

She so disliked not having a plan. She had no more idea what the world would be like than anyone else.

A thousand years ago the Chaco Canyon Indians settled the area around Mercy. They had a civilization that rivaled Dark Age Europe in scale and complexity. Families lived in two story adobe houses. She had walked around them in museums and marveled at their size. Irrigated agriculture and flowing water. Yet when a great drought came their whole way of life disintegrated. An environmental disaster beyond their imagining destroyed their world. Now they were only a historical reference. Molly wondered if her civilization would soon disappear the same way?

Breathe deeply in your nose and out your mouth. Breathe deeply in your nose and out your mouth. "Nanto ka na kuri naisa." That was the meditation phrase Sean gave her. It was supposed to mean, "It will all work out somehow" in Japanese. Sean talked about extending your life through calmness and happiness, and the research even showed he was right.

James woke. It was feeding time. She had a reality. She must give him his life. More than just his food she must give him his protection against the radiation.

* * *

_** I am trying to use Sean's point of view. It's an experiment. Does it work? Any feedback would be very much appreciated. I've had over a thousand reads and only three feedbacks.. **_


	27. Chapter 27

Sean thought he had left all the sneaking and hiding in camoflauge duty behind when he left contracting for the Feds with Blac

Sean thought he had left all the sneaking and hiding in camoflauge duty behind when he left contracting for the Feds with Blackwater Security behind six years ago. He thought he could have a simple life as a county sheriff. But his mercenary past had come back to haunt him. Once a month for five days, like every other cop in Arizona, he had to go down and work the border. Forty hours being the official law enforcement officer for the squad of M-4 armed National Guard troopers he was assigned to.

He hated border patrol duty. It was so utterly hopeless. If you blocked one border area, people would come up another. It wasn't like they had much choice. If people in Latin America wanted to eat, they had to come North. There was only a thin line of Mexico that was above the 30th parallel. Everything else in Latin America was suddenly thrown back into the 19th century. Yet the population was so much larger and the per capita food needs were so much higher that it was impossible to feed the people with 19th century technology.

The Cubans and the Venezuelans had it so unfairly easy. They could just claim that they were freedom seeking victims of oppression under a totalitarian communistic regime and they were automatically given asylum. But people who were only victims of oppression from totalitarian fascistic regimes were denied asylum and starvation was not considered as a valid reason for granting asylum.

He sat a few hundred metres from the border, with the rest of the group. They scanned the monitors and watched the tall border walls with night vision scanners, but they knew it didn't do a bit of good. The millions of poor in South America always did something new. The coyotes that had smuggled a hundred in the back of a cargo van now were running boats a hundred kilometres miles off the coasts, well in international waters, and then dumping them over board and telling them which way to swim. Many were making it, but the number of bodies washing up showed how many didn't. It was sickening.

And yet he sat, silently obeying his orders. He didn't want to create waves for Molly. He didn't want to be known as being disloyal to the new Fortress America.

It was a dark, moonless winter night. Everyone was on extra alert, staring through their night vision gear at the border. Everyone except Sean. He just struggled to keep from laughing. The recruits that were with him were green, idealistic yahoos. They meant well but had no experience with the real world. They all thought they were alone that night. Sean knew they weren't. As they watched the border, he could feel the ones watching them. He didn't know exactly where, but they were there, probably relaying his position by text messaging. The Coyotes would go to an area where nobody was watching, or better yet wait until a night when Eta Carinae was high and all the high tech surveillance and communications gear was down. Thundering, miserable nights when Eta Carinae was high were best. The border patrol would stay put in their shelters, deaf, blind and dumb.


End file.
